


A Child of His Soul

by Icemaidenstory



Series: The Daughters of Odin [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard, F/F, F/M, Family, Gen, Goddesses, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Deaths, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Politics, Strong Female Characters, Yggdrasil is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 120,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icemaidenstory/pseuds/Icemaidenstory
Summary: Before Thor and Loki were born, events took place that would have a direct effect on their lives. This series is set almost 5000 years before the first Thor movie, and tells the real story behind Odin’s secretive past.Asgard has been at peace for 15 years, but Odin’s children have never felt more conflicted. Hela struggles between the expectations of an heir and the ever-present call towards death, Daianya struggles to navigate politics and affairs of the heart, Nal struggles with being Jotun and female in an Asgardian society growing ever more hostile to both, Anima and Senan struggle to be friends instead of lovers, Loki struggles to win another castle, and Odin just wants his family to get along.On Vanaheim Princes Norbleen and Dorgen struggle to fit the roles laid out for them, as Frigga, only daughter of Lady Wearveil, struggles with who she really is in the face of her mother's ambitions.Meanwhile Brokkr, still furious at the death of his brother, has allied himself with Thanos who is determined to retrieve the Tesseract from Asgard’s vault and punish the Asgardians for what they have done to his people.
Series: The Daughters of Odin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670887
Comments: 307
Kudos: 51





	1. Peacetime in Asgard

**Author's Note:**

> Once again a quick note before we start in regards to the passage of time, age estimations and units of distance.
> 
> In order to make sense of the contradictions in Thor canon (e.g. Thor and Loki were '8' when Loki pulled his snake prank, but Thor is '1500' years old when talking to Rocket in Infinity War while Loki's birth year in puts him at about 1070 years old) my personal headcanon is that Allspeak is translating not just what you say but what you mean, so '1500' of whatever Rocket identifies as years is the same as 1070 years on Earth (give or take). Odin killing Surtur 'half a million years ago' is half a million years on Muspelheim, but would translate differently if Thor was on Asgard and differently again if he was talking to someone from Earth.
> 
> So in this story, no matter what, when someone talks about something happening '10 years ago', they mean 10 years on Earth. This is because I assume that you, the reader, are from Earth, and Allspeak is translating what they are actually saying into something that you will easily understand.
> 
> Same goes for age. When the story tells you someone **looks** 'about 15' then it's about 15 years of human development, again, because of Allspeak. They may actually be 750 years old, but I don't want to have to stick up a developmental comparison chart every time I introduce someone.
> 
> And finally, same goes for distance. I’m sure Asgard has its own way of measuring distance but for the sake of the story Allspeak shall immediately translate whatever they’re actually saying into kilometres.

**Fifteen years after the convergence**

The air around her was so thick with magic that it had turned visible. Green and red swirls of it were everywhere like mini twisters in the air. Anima, the only Mortal to ever channel the power of Yggdrasil and thus be considered a god, twisted and twirled the streams of magic around herself as she crouched down and inspected the ground beneath her feet.

It just looked like dirt.

She pulled a face and took out a sample container, before carefully scraping some of the soil up and sealing it tight for future study. 

The magic in this place was so overwhelming that most people wouldn’t be able to survive more than a few seconds, and yet, she had to confess that her surprise was minimal when she found herself joined by another.

Nothing Loki of Utgard actually surprised her anymore, a fact which made him mildly irked. 

“Found the key to everything yet?” he called out, walking across the rocky and barren ground like a man out for a pleasant stroll.

“This place is teeming with residual life-magic,” Anima said. “It has to be left over from Asgard’s creation, but there’s nothing down here. No life, no spontaneous anything. This much magic should be causing random creations all over the place.”

“Maybe it’s all being sucked up and used on the surface?” Loki suggested. “I mean, the endless water has to come from somewhere.”

“Mimir’s Well,” Anima said. “It’s endless and spills out over everything.”

“Well yes, but the connection to the source of Mimir’s Well has to be maintained,” Loki said.

“How are you alive through all this?” Anima asked him. He rarely gave a real answer to questions like that, but the direct approach was the most likely to yield one on the off chance he was in the right mood.

“It likes me,” Loki said. “How are you doing it?”

Anima turned back to the soil and pulled out a pre-prepared analysis spell that she’d painstakingly drawn onto a piece of square cloth. “It’s not touching me,” she said. “I’m still Mortal, that much power at once would blow me to pieces, but I can move it around me instead of through me.”

“Impressive,” Loki said, as a stream of red chaos magic slid through his right side and out through his left shoulder. “Ooh, that rearranged something.”

“Are you alright? Do I have to rescue you?” Anima asked without taking her eyes from the spell as it analysed the ground beneath her feet.

“Oh no, I’ve been rearranged before,” Loki said, crouching beside her. “What does it say?”

“The soil is infused with magic, but it’s inert for some reason,” Anima said. “I’ll have to test my samples when I get back to the other side, maybe there’s something here that’s suppressing magic.”

“Maybe, but for now, if you are interested, your Father is due to arrive at my castle for a few days. Also Ratatoskr, who I invited, will be there tomorrow morning.”

Anima looked up at him, her blue eyes almost glowed in the light of the magic swirling around her. “Ratatoskr? Really? I’ve been wanting to talk to him for decades.”

“I know, which is why I invited him, he is equally as eager to talk to you. He wants to meet the Mortal Goddess, mostly, I have to admit, for bragging rights. Neither the Eagle nor Níðhöggr have ever met you, and likely never will. He’ll revel in being the one to have laid eyes on you in person.”

“He’s going to be disappointed,” Anima said. “I hardly look impressive.”

“You didn’t see yourself when you took your goddess form,” Loki said, smiling. “I knew you were on our side and I still damn near shat myself.”

“You did not,” Anima shot back. “You were too busy winning your castle.”

Loki grinned at her and held out his hand. Anima packed away her things and took it. She concentrated, and they both vanished.

Pulling back from the place where they had stood, further, further, across barren soil and swirling colour, further still, until the edge of the land can be seen, ringed with water. But the water is not still like an ocean, it is moving, pouring in fact, pouring upwards, creating a wall of water that defies gravity as it tumbles up towards the sky. But then the eye pulls out further and beyond the rim of rising water the underside of this place is green and full of life. Then perspective twists and the realm rolls, and now the green is on top and the barren wasteland, lit only by magic and only then to those who can see such things, is on the bottom. Asgard, a wondrous place of magic and gods rises into view. Its mountains high and snow-topped, its oceans forever pouring over the edge of the realm, the Realm Eternal is an impressive sight for any visitor, and best viewed from a distance, so as to have the chance to take it all in.

Provided, that is, one approaches it from one direction only. The other side is incredible boring to look at, and doesn’t seem at all well planned.

It is on this other, boring side, that King Bor, some fourteen years and six months earlier, rode out with a full party of the court in order to grant Loki of Utgard his prize for winning their bet, namely that Anima, Bor’s Mortal Granddaughter, was indeed the Goddess of Magic.

_Fourteen years earlier_

“Here we are,” King Bor had said, reigning his horse in and savouring the silence that had accompanied his declaration.

The castle had been built a long time earlier and had been neglected by every king for the last seven generations. It had been built right on a cliff overlooking the sea, and at some point in the past the cliff had crumbled, causing roughly half of the castle to collapse and fall into the water. The remaining structure was worn and weathered stone, with no stable foundation to speak of and no modern technology anywhere.

But it was still legally listed as a castle, and so Bor had handed over the deed to Loki with a bark of laughter, before turning around to spend the night at the local tavern.

Loki had been gracious in his response. He had taken the deed with a thank you and promptly disappeared from court for several months every year since. Bor had considered this a massive win.

_Now_

Anima and Loki reappeared at the base of the road which led to Castle Loki. Anima looked it over, her expression slowly changing from interest to confusion, to uncertainty and then resignation.

“Nice castle,” she said.

Loki grinned at her. “I’ve invited the King to come and stay but he keeps refusing me,” he said. “I can’t think why.”

Loki had been busy in the last fourteen and a half years. He had engaged every expert in stonemasonry, woodworking, engineering, mechanical engineering, _magical_ engineering, and architecture. Some he had paid handsomely, others had done it just to be able to say they had.

He had rebuilt the missing half of the castle. First by driving enormous pylons into the remaining cliff face, using magic to strengthen both the ground and the existing base of the castle, then he had constructed the missing section using lightweight materials strengthened further with magic, and the whole thing had then been spelled to levitate, just in case the rest of the cliff did eventually give way.

The result was difficult to look at. The castle looked as though it was holding on to the cliff through sheer stubbornness and force of will. 

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” Loki said.

Anima allowed him to teleport her to the front door, it was fare easier than climbing the long path to the top.

Loki pushed open the door, still grinning his wide, borderline insane, grin of delight.

Anima inspected the front entrance hall and began to nod. “You plan on keeping that banner up forever?” she asked.

“Bor hasn’t visited yet,” Loki said.

The banner was made of a thousand clashing colours, spelling out the words ‘Welcome Knig Borr’. There was also an abundance of glitter.

“Why is it spelt wrong?” Anima asked. 

“You mean that’s not how it’s spelt?” Loki responded, leading her past the garish banner and into the next room. “This is the greeting room, for when I have formal visitors,” he said.

“It’s lovely,” Anima said. “Tell me, are the chairs all mismatching for a reason?”

“I liked them all and couldn’t decide which style was best,” Loki said. “But I need to show you your bedroom! I assume you will be staying tonight yes?”

“I didn’t pack to stay the night,” Anima said, fighting a smile, “But I suppose I can always pop home and get some things.”

“Brilliant!” Loki declared and led her upstairs.

He showed her to a room fit for a king. It was tastefully decorated in light green and dark brown woods, with flowers embroidered across the bedspread and carved into the mantle over the fireplace.

“I was not expecting any room in this place to look so normal,” Anima said.

“Well, sometimes I want people I like to come and stay with me so I made them a nice place to rest in,” Loki said.

“What room are you going to put Father in?” Anima asked.

Loki stepped back and opened a nearby door.

“Oh,” Anima said after a minute.

****

Nal, third daughter of Odin and second of the three triplets, was sitting beneath the arching roots of the Home’s Shelter Tree drawing a design for a new garden on a piece of paper. The palace gardens, she had decided, did not have enough scented plants, and so she was determined to fix that.

The Home’s Shelter Tree naturally grew into an enormous plant with the trunk elevated several metres off the ground, held up by thick roots which grew downwards in a twisted manner. The people who lived where the tree grew natively used them as their homes. Nal had converted hers into a kind of workshop, with the twisting shape of the roots used as shelves and benches for sitting, and the rest made up of rough gardening furniture. She was careful not to leave anything valuable behind of a night time – the tree was out in one of the palace gardens after all – but everyone knew it was her place, and during the day at least no one was stupid enough to disturb her.

Except, it seemed, the young man who stuck his head through the beads she’d hung up to act as a door, caught sight of her, swore, and ducked out again just as quickly.

Nal frowned at the jangling beads, considering her options, before she set aside her drawing, rose from where she was reclining, and stepped out of her sanctuary.

He was still standing there, red faced and shifting his feet awkwardly around.

“I’m really sorry, your Grace,” he said.

“Why did you bother me?” Nal asked him in her usual clipped tone.

“I didn’t mean to, your Grace, I heard someone say the Princess was out for the day and I wanted to see the inside of the tree,” he stammered. “I wasn’t going to touch anything!”

“Who are you?” Nal asked him, still annoyed.

“Scyth, your Grace, I’m a gardener, just started over on the south lawns. Lawns is boring though so I took a walk through the other gardens and then I saw the tree but the other gardeners said it was yours and I wasn’t to go looking but I really really wanted to, but I swear I wasn’t going to touch anything!” He blurted out. Nal stood by with a frown on her face as she waited for him to stumble his way to a finish.

“The tree is my workshop. No one goes in my workshop,” she said. “On the inside it just looks like a tree.”

“Begging your pardon, but most trees on the inside don’t look like anything unless you cut them down, and then they look like rings. Does it have rings?” Scyth asked her.

Despite herself, Nal was amused. Her mouth began to curl into a smile. “No, it’s doesn’t have any rings, at least, they are not visible,” she said.

He peeked up at her through dark lashes and ventured a smile. “Well, thank you for telling me, your Grace. I won’t bother you further.”

Nal turned away, her mind already back on her new design, when he spoke again.

“So how long do I have to work here before I’m allowed to take a peek in the Death Garden?”

Nal stopped and turned around again. “Why would you want to look at that?” she asked.

Scyth shrugged. “It’s a garden full of plants I’ve never heard of. I may as well ask why you planted it, your Grace.”

Nal resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Why did you become a gardener, Scyth?” she asked.

“I’ve been trying to make things grow since I was tiny, my father told me I’d better take an apprenticeship as a gardener or else he wouldn’t know what to do with me,” Scyth said. “But so far it’s been lawns. Watering them, cutting them, fertilising them. I’m all for a lawn in its rightful place, grass has to grow somewhere after all, but I prefer flowers over grass, and unique plants over regular ones. I’ve got a Vanilla Orchid in my room, from Midgard. I got the seeds from a trader that said he snuck down there and… um… well, he said he just picked a few seeds, he didn’t bother anyone.”

“I’ve never seen a Vanilla Orchid,” Nal said. “I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”

“You won’t tell on me for buying stolen goods?” Scyth asked nervously.

“No, but I want the details of that trader,” Nal said. “I won’t tell the King, but I will tell my sister, Anima, the Princess who is out for the day. She is quite protective of Midgard and will want to know whether this trader truly caused no harm.”

Scyth nodded like a puppet on a string. “I’ll give you his name, and show you the orchid, I promise,” he said.

“Go,” Nal said, turning her back on him and re-entering her workshop.

“Yes your Grace!” he called out, and then there was peaceful silence as he departed.

Nal let out a long sigh. She did not have the patience of most of her sisters, but she did have time for plants.

****

Daianya sat at a desk in the Valkyrie barracks and carefully mapped out a complicated arrangement on the paper in front of her. She had been asked to come up with some new manoeuvring techniques for Valkyrie in a ground battle and her brow was furrowed deeply in concentration.

“You’ve got a letter,” said a voice from behind her. 

Daianya looked up; it was Tarah, one of her fellow squad members and good friend.

“Who’s it from?” she asked, reaching for it.

“Looks like Prince Norbleen of Vanaheim; love letter?” Tarah asked teasingly as Daianya took it.

“Absolutely not,” Daianya said. “He’s a friend, we’ve been writing for years.”

“Just a friend?” Tarah asked in a casual tone. “Your hair’s coming out again, sit up straight and I’ll re-plait it.”

“Yes, just a friend,” Daianya said, tearing open the letter as Tarah reached for her wild, curly red hair.

“Have you ever considered cutting it short?” Tarah asked her as the messy plait was released in an explosion of strands, each with their own personal agenda.

“Many times, but as much as I hate it, I also love it. Is that weird?” Daianya asked.

“Not really,” Tarah said. “I hate my chin, but if I changed it I wouldn’t be me anymore. Does he have anything interesting to say?”

Daianya scanned the letter. “Some updates on the Vanir court, it’s almost summer and that’s when King Dimcken throws enormous parties almost every night, oh, Prince Dorgen is doing well at training but missed his footwork and fell into a fountain – apparently it was hilarious – and oh.”

“Oh?” Tarah repeated, slowly forcing thick handfuls of hair into a tight plait. 

“He says he’s planning to go into the Vanir army for ten years, to live and work among the men and women who defend his realm. He’s joining right after the summer is over.”

“Well from what I’ve heard he’s a very good fighter,” Tarah said. “He’ll excel in the army.”

“He thinks some of his time might be spent on Asgard, we have a mutual exchange program and it’s very common for the Vanir soldiers to spend a year or two here,” Daianya said.

“I’ve never seen any,” Tarah said. 

“They don’t divide the army the way we do,” Daianya said. “None of the women soldiers are well enough trained at what we do to join the Valkyrie, so they only send the men.”

“That’s stupid,” Tarah said.

“I agree, but until we run the Valkyrie there’s not a lot we can do about it,” Daianya said.

“We?”

“You plan on making a career of it, don’t you? Well then one day I assume we’ll be running it together,” Daianya said. “Along with Tiree, Norah and Meydee.”

“Oh, right,” Tarah said. She tied the end of Daianya’s plait and let it go. “There we are, that’ll last you until lunchtime.”

“Thanks,” Daianya said, giving her a smile. “Did you know that when I was little Nal once put a small doll in my hair and I didn’t notice for three days?”

“Really? How?”

“We were four, our nursemaid hated washing my hair so she’d only do it every two weeks. No one believed us and Father was away at war, so Nal put it in there without telling anyone, even me, as proof that the nursemaid wasn’t taking proper care of us.”

“And afterwards did they believe you?”

“No. The head Nanny just punished Nal for putting it there. We got her back though. Anima turned her hair into snakes.”

Tarah started laughing. “I didn’t know she could do that. I mean, I knew she could turn whole people into things, but not hair into snakes.”

Daianya looked at her with a twinkle in her eye. She and Tarah had not always been the closest of friends, and Anima had taken it upon herself to take direct action in the form of a shapeshifting spell.

“You made a nice goat, I thought,” Daianya teased.

Tarah rolled her eyes and laughed. “I was a bitch; I deserved it. But if I ever piss you off, _please_ deal with me yourself. I can’t handle having snakes for hair, just the thought of it makes me shudder.” 

She demonstrated, shaking her whole body in an exaggerated shiver. Daianya started to giggle. “I promise,” she said.

“Hey! Are you two in there?” Called a voice from beyond the door.

“Well, there’s two of us and we are inside this room, but I don’t know if we’re the _right_ two,” Daianya called back.

Norah’s head popped through the door. “We’ve decided to go out tonight for a drink and a wander through the entertainment district. There’s a group of acrobats visiting from Alfheim and they’re doing a free performance in the square. Do you want to come?”

“Sure, sounds like fun,” Daianya said as Tarah nodded. 

“I’d better go and clean my tack now then,” Tarah said, rising from her chair. “See you later.”

“See you,” Daianya said, turning back to her paper.

****

Tarah and Norah were less than three feet out of the door when Norah turned to stare at her friend. “Did you tell her?” she whispered.

“No,” Tarah admitted. “I chickened out.”

“You have to tell her! I can’t stand watching you moon around after her without anything happening, the tension, it ARGH, it gets to me,” Norah said.

“I’ll tell her tonight, after I’ve had a drink for courage,” Tarah said.

“Promise?”

“No.”

“What?!”

“I’m not promising that. What if something happens to stop me? Then I’ll break a perfectly good promise for no good reason,” Tarah said.

Norah pouted as they stepped outside into the sunshine. Tiree and Meydee were standing there.

“Did she tell her?” Tiree asked.

“No!” Norah exclaimed to a chorus of groans.

“It’s not that easy,” Tarah said. “She’s a princess, and I don’t even know if she likes women, let alone me, and we’re on a squad together, and… it’s just hard, alright?”

“Maybe we’re doing this wrong,” Norah said. “You make some very good points. We need to get those obstacles out of the way first.”

“Going to find a way to de-princess her, are you?” Tarah asked dryly.

“No, but that’s not an obstacle,” Norah said.

“It is if she gets betrothed to Prince Norbleen,” Tarah said. “He sent her another letter.”

“She insists that he’s just a friend,” Meydee pointed out.

“She and I are just friends too, that doesn’t mean he’s not looking to change things,” Tarah said. “And worse, he’s probably going to spend a few years in Asgard. He’s joining the Vanir army and they do _exchanges,_ ”

As one, the women pulled ugly faces. 

“This just will not do,” Norah said. “We have to find out if she likes women. _That’s_ our first priority. Second is the Norbleen problem. We might have to find him a girlfriend, Tiree, are you willing to take one for the team?”

“Sure,” Tiree said, shrugging.

“Then, if she likes women and Norbleen is out of the way, we set you up with a nice dinner, if she says how nice it is then we see about shifting you to another squad, so there’s no conflict of interest.”

“Technically that’s not an obstacle,” Meydee said. “Lots of Valkyrie are on squads with their lovers, it makes them want to fight harder.”

“True, ditch the squad shift idea then. We just need to find out if she likes women, get Norbleen out of the way, and then see if she likes _you_. After that it’ll be easy, you two will kiss under the moonlight and we’ll all go to the wedding!”

“I’m going to clean my tack. Norah, you are insane. Tiree, Meydee, you are also insane for encouraging her,” Tarah said.

“I think you’d make a great couple,” said a new voice. Tarah turned and stared in horror at the figure on the fence.

“Brunnhilde, I swear if you say _anything_ ,” Tarah threatened.

Brunnhilde, Tarah’s younger sister and semi-professional menace, stuck her tongue out and jumped off the fence on the far side, so as to be out of grabbing range. “I won’t tell, but when you get married I want to stay up ‘til the end of the feast and you have to let me have a sip of wine,” she said.

“Deal,” Tarah said, and Brunnhilde ran off.

“You gave in too easily,” Tiree said.

“No I didn’t. She’ll keep her word and Mother will decide whether she comes to any feasts, wedding or otherwise,” Tarah said. “You should never make a deal with someone who doesn’t have the power to hold up their end of the bargain. This is a valuable lesson she will learn.”

“She’s going to put spiders in your bed,” Norah said.


	2. All Kinds of Plans

Prince Norbleen of Vanaheim sat in his father’s private sitting room and listened as King Dimcken talked at length about his favourite subject: women. Specifically, women in relation to Norbleen.

“I’ve made it known that I intend to hold a great number of parties and balls so that you can meet all the young ladies. I want you to find someone, my boy, someone noble and proper, who knows her place.”

That last sentence was definitely a dig at Norbleen’s stepmother and current queen, Queen Boaldia. The Queen was from one of the more powerful Vanir noble families, and her marriage had been arranged following the death of Norbleen’s mother in a horse-riding accident. As such once she had given King Dimcken the required son in the form of Prince Dorgen, she had refused to spend any time with him outside of official functions. This was a definite point of annoyance for the King.

“I promise, Father, I will dance until my shoes fall off my feet,” Norbleen said. “As soon as I get back from my travels.”

“Travels? What travels?” Dimcken asked suspiciously.

“My friend, Sir Kinndyr, has invited me to visit his family home for a few weeks. I’ll be back before the summer season begins, Father, don’t worry,” Norbleen said. “I was thinking of inviting Princess Daianya of Asgard, if she is able to come. She did express an interest in the sights of our realm.”

King Dimcken’s face split into a joyful smile. “My boy! My boy! I had no idea you had made such delightful plans. Of course you can go, and do invite the Princess, I had all but given up hope, what with King Bor’s lack of answer to my _very_ reasonable request for your betrothal. But if she _likes_ you, if she speaks favourably of you, oh this is wonderful!”

Norbleen’s expression had taken on a look of alarm. “Father,” he started to say. “I didn’t mean it like that. We are friends, we’ve been writing for decades. I just thought she’d like to go.”

“Of course, of course,” King Dimcken said. His grin was beginning to look slightly manic. Norbleen’s own smile became awkwardly fixed.

“She may not even be able to come,” Norbleen said.

“But if she does then you will be a perfect host, a perfect host. Yes. I want you to be happy, my boy. A princess makes a man very happy I promise you, they are born and raised to do so.”

Norbleen’s face took on a level of nervousness. “Father,” he said. “On the subject of my happiness, there’s something I wanted – ”

He was interrupted by the arrival of Queen Boaldia, who entered the room after a perfunctory knock. “I’m looking for Dorgen,” she said, scanning the room. “He’s skipped out on his dancing lessons, _again_.”

“I’ll help you look for him,” Norbleen said, rising from his chair. “I’ll see you later, Father, and I’ll let you know what Princess Daianya’s answer is once I invite her.”

“Do so without delay my boy,” King Dimcken commanded, still grinning. 

“Oh, while I’m here,” Queen Boaldia said. “My dearest friend, Lady Wearveil, will be joining us for the summer, and she will be bringing her daughter, Frigga, who will have completed her studies.”

“Oh, good,” King Dimcken said. “Lady Wearveil is a compliment to the court. I’m sure her daughter will be just as enchanting.”

“I do hope you will take an interest in making her comfortable?” Queen Boaldia said to Norbleen.

“I’d be delighted,” Prince Norbleen said. “I am already friends with her brother, Lord Haewkyr?”

“Oh yes that’s right,” Queen Boaldia said in a fake tone of recollection. She knew every member of the court and who they associated with, and had in fact introduced Norbleen to Lord Haewkyr several years earlier, again at the request of Lady Wearveil. “I’m sure Sar Frigga will be a wonderful addition to your group of friends.”

Norbleen fled the room before there was any more talk about the youth of Vanaheim’s collection of friendships, relationships and other alliances.

****

Dorgen, second prince of Vanaheim, was on top of one of the garden walls trying to sneak a peek at the maids as they harvested fresh herbs for the dinner. 

“You know there are hundreds of ladies in the court for you to look at?” Norbleen said, approaching on silent feet alongside Lord Haewkyr. Both of them smiled as Dorgen jumped at being caught.

“I was just…” Dorgen said and stopped, embarrassed. “All the ladies at the court only want to look at you,” he said at last.

“Well yeah, crown princes often get stared at,” Haewkyr said easily, “Doesn’t mean anything except they haven’t met him yet. One conversation and they’ll never look at him again.”

“What do you mean by that?” Norbleen asked him.

“I mean you’re boring,” Haewkyr said, winking at Dorgen, who grinned.

“I am not boring and they only don’t look at you yet because you’re thirteen,” Norbleen said. “Give it a few more centuries and they’ll be all over you.”

Dorgen made a growling sound under his breath. Norbleen was taller, slender and handsome, with fair hair and blue eyes that sparkled with mirth. His nose was slightly hooked and a little large for his face, but that was a family trait and it was universally agreed on by the women of the court that it gave his face character. Dorgen, by contrast, had plain brown hair, a scrawny body that he had been assured he would grow into, and his nose was more prominent than his older brother’s, giving him a slightly bird-like appearance. For all of Norbleen’s assurances, Dorgen did not like his chances as long as his older brother remained available.

“Also, you missed your dancing lesson, and worse, your mother noticed,” Norbleen added.

Dorgen’s eyes widened and he winced at the thought. “Is she mad?” he asked.

“Just disappointed,” Norbleen said with fake sympathy. “But I’ll make you a deal. If you promise to be very good and attend all your lessons for the next month, then I will take you with me when I go travelling to Kinndyr’s family home, and the Falls of the Spritefolk, and the Caves of Wondrous Lights…”

“Really? Promise?” Dorgen asked, sliding off the wall.

“I promise,” Norbleen said.

“And my Mother isn’t coming?” Dorgen asked.

“No. Just you and me and my friends, plus possibly some girls from Asgard,” Norbleen said.

Dorgen’s eyes widened. “Girls?” he asked, then pulled himself together. “I mean, that sounds fine,” he said as casually as he could as Haewekyr roared with good natured laughter.

Norbleen gave Dorgen a knowing look. “You are fooling precisely nobody,” he said.

“You’ve got a little magic, Dorgen,” Haewkyr said. “You should get your mother to send you to the Academy of Magic up North. I’ll ask my sister if there are any younger girls up there that she can introduce you to. Let you practice a little young love away from the prying eyes of the court.”

“Your sister is coming to court for the summer,” Norbleen said, turning to him.

“I know, Mother wrote to me. I’m to go with her to escort my older sister back here; although why Frig can’t travel alone I have no idea. Vanaheim’s not exactly a wilderness, and I thought the whole point of learning magic was so you could use it to blast your enemies into clam chowder.”

“Clam chowder?” Dorgen repeated, smothering a laugh.

“No? Is it potato soup then? Bean stew? I always mix it up,” Haewkyr said.

“You don’t turn people into food,” Dorgen said.

“No, _you_ don’t turn people into food, and that’s because you haven’t learnt how to use your magic properly yet. You need to enrol in the Academy of Magic, which neatly beings us back to the point I was _trying_ to make, and that is that I was right,” Haewkyr said.

Norbleen punched Haewkyr on the arm as Dorgen started laughing.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your lessons before you get into too much trouble, and _maybe_ in time we’ll convince Father to send you for a few lessons at the Tower of Magic, _not_ the Academy, it’s too far away and he’ll want you to stay in the city,” Norbleen said.

Together the three of them walked back inside.

“Did you speak to your Father?” Haewkyr asked him quietly as they walked out of the sunlight.

“I tried, but then I chickened out,” Norbleen admitted.

Haewkyr looked disappointed for a moment but then shrugged. “From what you’ve told me he’s a hard man to talk to about things he doesn’t like, there’ll be time later,” he said.

**** 

Odin rode up the steep and unkempt path to Loki’s castle with his eyes on the ground. Bor had deliberately refused to allocate any land outside of that which led directly up to the castle on the cliff, and so the country road that led from the nearest flyer landing pad to Loki’s castle road was in exactly the kind of state you’d expect from a barely travelled path.

He’d been riding for a few hours now and was desperate for a rest and a drink, not necessarily in that order. He sighed in relief when he saw the turnoff that marked Loki’s castle road and finally took a moment to look up the winding cliff path to the structure at the top.

For a long moment he just stared at it, trying to find a way to make what he was seeing make sense in his mind. It wasn’t easy. The cliff itself had a curve to it, allowing anyone approaching the castle a full and unencumbered view of a castle that appeared to be attached to the ground via a combination of hopes and dreams.

“What have you done?” Odin murmured under his breath. “ _How_ have you done it?”

When blinking hard several times failed to clear the vision of a teetering castle from before him, Odin reluctantly accepted that Loki had, once again, made King Bor look vaguely foolish, and urged his horse up the path toward the castle.

He arrived in time for the door to open and Loki to greet him with a smile.

“Brother,” he said, glancing past Odin curiously. “No King? I invited him too.”

“My father declines your generous invitation,” Odin said. “How, by Yggdrasil’s fallen apples, did you manage to do this? Is it an illusion?”

“Nope. It’s real, all real. I have rebuilt this place! Isn’t it amazing?” Loki said.

“How?” was all Odin asked.

“I’m the God of Rebuilding,” Loki replied. “Come into my masterpiece, brother, I’ll show you around. Please hand your bags to the servant at the door and follow me.”

Odin glanced around, only to find another Loki, dressed in a bright blue uniform, reaching out to take his bags. He handed it over with a sigh and followed the first Loki past the badly misspelled banner and further into the castle.

“So no one would come and work here?” he asked as Loki led him through a series of corridors.

“Actually I have a whole kitchen staff now, and some cleaning staff. I’ve never had to be so responsible before in my entire life,” Loki said.

“So there was an illusion on the servant?” Odin asked.

“No, Marden just looks like that. All my servants look like me,” Loki said. “I specifically put it as a requirement in the advertisement.”

“And you got people?” Odin asked.

“Oh yes, I pay well, brother, well enough that I had to sort through dozens of people just like me, it was _wonderful_.”

“Wonderful?”

“Extremely, just wait until tonight. I’ve got a performance planned with the laundry staff, you’ll love it.”

“Are you going to sing?” Odin asked nervously.

“Of course,” Loki said. “Now here’s the great hall, not a patch on the Great Hall of the palace but still, we’ll be eating in here tonight.”

“There’s no floor,” Odin commented, looking down.

“Of course there is,” Loki replied, stepping out onto what looked like thin air. “I thought about making it stone or putting carpet down but why spoil the view?”

“The view of the ocean crashing into the cliff which is several dozen metres that way?” Odin asked, craning his neck to try and see back where they had come from.

“Did you know that the entirety of the original great hall fell into the waves on a single night? Hundreds were killed,” Loki said. “The whole back half of the castle just fell away. Thank goodness we have structural scans these days to give us warning, huh?”

“Yes,’ Odin said, stepping carefully out onto the clear floor. It felt like glass beneath his feet. “Aren’t you concerned about the servants slipping?” he asked.

“No, they have special shoes to help them grip,” Loki said. “Now, onward to your bedroom!”

“Hello Father, I heard from Marden that you’d arrived,” Anima said.

Odin turned, fighting a small amount of alarm at the sight of Anima standing on the invisible floor. “Daughter, my child, how are you?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were staying with Loki.”

“I wasn’t planning to, but then he invited me at the last minute,” Anima said, walking towards him with no apparent sign of nervousness. “Tomorrow morning Ratatoskr will be visiting, I’m hoping he will answer a few of my questions about the history of Asgard. Will you stay until he gets here?”

“That sounds… lovely,” Odin said. “Are you sure this floor is safe?”

“Yes Father, I checked it myself,” Anima said.

“Hey!” Loki protested. “I paid for the best!”

“I know, but it always pays to check things for yourself I’ve found,” Anima said, smiling at Loki’s outrage.

“Fine, glad it meets your approval,” Loki sniffed. “Shall I show you to your room?” He asked Odin.

“That would be wonderful… uh… is it in the front or the back of the castle?” Odin asked.

“The front, because I knew _some people_ wouldn’t be able to handle sleeping over a giant drop,” Loki said.

He led them up the stairs and proudly opened a door.

Odin sighed heavily. “It’s wonderful,” he lied.

“I knew you’d like it, look the lights change colour,” Loki said as Anima giggled behind him. “Of course there’s always my room, you are welcome to share?”

Odin stepped into his room and shut the door on their laughing faces.


	3. The True Men's Alliance

Tyr Hymirsson, aged about fifteen and very unhappy about it, was lying on his bed watching a recording of a speech by Lord Elbin. Lord Elbin was the head of the True Men’s Alliance and a compelling speaker. Tyr’s father, General Hymir, thought Lord Elbin was a troublemaker and a woman-hater, but Tyr knew he was wrong. If only he’d actually listen to the speeches then he might understand. The True Men’s Alliance didn’t hate women, they just understood that women had their place in society, and those women who refused to settle into their roles were a danger to the fabric of society itself.

“These women, these Valkyrie, they spend all their time training and fighting, when do they have time to marry? When do they have time for children? A man cannot carry a child, a man cannot nurse a child, nature tells us that a woman’s place is with her children. Unnatural women cause unrest and upset. There is no need for the Valkyrie, one warrior is worth two Valkyrie in any fight, so why then must the palace funds be diverted so that these women can play at battle? Our army would be twice as big without the Valkyrie, and three times more effective!”

Tyr nodded along. Lord Elbin made so much sense. Tyr knew from experience that he was stronger than the Asgardian Valkyries, and an even match for the Aesir – or pure blooded – Valkyries, and he was two centuries off being an adult yet, he was only going to get stronger.

But when he’d trained against them they had started winning, not at first, at first it had been easy, but eventually. His father had said it was because Tyr didn’t train enough, didn’t practice blocking techniques that worked against smaller and weaker opponents. But if the Valkyrie knew their place and left the fighting to the warriors then he wouldn’t have to learn things like that.

The sound of the door alerted Tyr to his father’s presence, and he hastily stopped the recording and stashed the tape under his pillow. He went to his bedroom door and opened it just a crack. “Father? Are you home?” He called.

“Downstairs,” General Hymir called back. 

Tyr headed down and into the middle of a discussion. Commander Lomax, General Hymir’s second in command, was present in the living room.

“Commander,” Tyr greeted formally.

Commander Lomax gave him a smile and a nod of greeting before going back to his discussion with the General.

“I’m just saying, they were all excellent fighters,” he said. 

“I’m not denying it, but I don’t want any men in my army who refuse to fight alongside others for any reason,” General Hymir said. “In battle you do not get to choose who your allies are. If they won’t even train with the Valkyrie then in a real battle they’ll get someone killed through lack of experience, and knowing my luck it won’t be them.”

“If you kept them then we could try and teach them to respect the Valkyrie,” Commander Lomax said, “Change their way of thinking.”

“The army is not, and never has been, a social project,” General Hymir said. “It’s that damn True Men’s Alliance, putting stupid ideas into these boys’ heads. I can’t believe the cheek they showed, refusing to even acknowledge General Solveig’s presence. No, they had their chance. They can be soldiers for hire if they choose to be, but I won’t have men like that in the King’s army.”

“I just feel that the problem will get worse if people do not do what they can to combat it,” Commander Lomax said. “Even the army can do something.”

General Hymir shook his head. “I don’t feel the same way. Too many of them together and the next thing you know they are preaching to our men. The older ones I have no concerns about, they’ve fought alongside the Valkyrie enough times to respect them and what they do, but the younger ones who still haven’t fought a real battle? It’s too easy to fall into dangerous thinking. One of those boys openly said the Valkyrie should be like porters to us, should serve us our meals and our drink like servants. Why pay servants if that’s what you think the Valkyrie are for?”

“I respect your decision, I just wanted to be sure that you had considered the alternatives,” Commander Lomax said. “If we get too many of them then we might have to accept a few or the army numbers will start to suffer.”

“If that happens I’ll take on a bunch of women and call it a fair trade,” General Hymir said with a grunt. “Drink?”

“Please,” Commander Lomax said.

General Hymir disappeared into the kitchen to grab cups. Tyr took advantage of his absence to approach Commander Lomax.

“Have you got the latest speeches?” he whispered.

Commander Lomax slid Tyr a new recording crystal and gave him a wink.

“We’ll get there one day,” he whispered back, “Don’t you worry.”

Man and boy both put on polite smiles as General Hymir walked back into the room.

****

“Have you heard anything more about the True Men’s Alliance?” Odin asked Loki as they sat eating dinner in the extremely disturbing great hall, which was not quite as disturbing to Odin as it had first appeared, not after he’d seen his bedroom, which had walls of glass filled with coloured liquid through which giant globs of contrasting coloured liquid slowly drifted up and down. Each wall had been a different colour too, and as for the ceiling… 

“Bunch of weak-willed wankers,” Loki said. “Lord Elbin needs a kick up his pants and a crash course on why societal roles of any kind are plain bullshit. I’ve been wanted to take him down for a while. Nobody gets to be that charismatic and start their own cult except for _me_.”

“They’ve been growing in numbers, according to our spies,” Odin said. “A lot of younger men are joining; the problem is I can’t understand why.”

“They’re weak-willed wankers,” Loki repeated. “It’s not complicated.”

“I think it is,” Odin said. “Asgard has been stable, at least internally, for a very long time, but it’s also had an unbroken line of succession from father to son. I have four daughters and am unmarried. I think there are a lot of people who are concerned at the change in status quo.”

“Then they should get over themselves. And you’re wrong, Asgard has had two ruling queens before, both of them were amazing at it, so it’s not like they have history to draw from,” Loki said.

“Who were they?” Anima asked. “I don’t remember learning about them in lessons.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Odin said. “The last one was Queen Mab, and she was your Great, Great, Great, Great Grandmother, and the one before that may in fact be a myth. It was so long ago that no one’s quite sure if she existed. Her reign is said to have taken place fifty-thousand or so years ago, which is about the same age as Asgard itself.”

“So she may have ruled over the last Asgard, before the last Ragnarok,” Anima said.

Odin tilted his head. “Last Asgard?”

“I’ve been teaching my nieces the true history of Asgard,” Loki said proudly.

Odin gave him a polite smile. “The theory that there have been earlier Asgards is still _just_ a theory. There is no actual evidence that other Asgards existed, nothing other than myths and legends. Asgard was created after the other eight realms, this is true, but that doesn’t mean there were others.”

“The Jotun stories are very compelling,” Anima argued. “And my own research suggests that this place was formed by magic, not physics, which is highly unusual.”

“And yet still not proof of an _earlier_ Asgard, only that the creation of the Realm Eternal was deliberate and powerful,” Odin said.

“All the nine realms were made on purpose,” Loki said. “They grew as Yggdrasil did. Asgards included.”

Odin took another bite of his dinner and didn’t argue. Loki could be like a hound on the scent when he decided to dig his heels in.

“The first Queen, the mythical one, she was known as Queen Arneia,” Loki said. “They say she drove back several invasions from Asgard and slew the leader of the invading race herself. But yes, _on Jotunheim_ the stories say she then led her people through Ragnarok and to survival. She also took several mortal husbands – not at the same time of course – and started the tradition of Asgardians in the royal family, up until then they were all Aesir. In fact, the high number of Asgardians is said to have resulted from her court residing on Midgard for a hundred years, before the new Asgard was finally ready for them.”

“There was a delay?” Anima asked.

Odin rolled his eyes as Loki nodded. “Something happened to delay the cycle of Ragnarok. No one knows what, but after a hundred years the Aesir – and their Asgardian children – moved to their new home.”

“It’s strange that,” Anima said, “Aesir and Asgardians. Jotunheim doesn’t have half-Jotnir, you either are or you aren’t, is it just that the Aesir spent so long on Midgard?”

“They did not spend time on Midgard, that is just a myth that is unproven,” Odin said.

“Unproven just means _you_ can’t prove it didn’t happen,” Loki said, “And the reason you never see any half-Jotnir is because any half-Jotnir just looks like their other half. You know that all life is made up of a sequence of different codes? Well, there’s a part in the life-code of all the races in the nine realms which tells them what race they are.”

“So how does it blend sometimes and not others?” Anima asked.

“Some races have more dominant code,” Loki said. “If you get one bit of code telling you to be Mortal, and another telling you to be Dark Elf, then you will be Dark Elf. You might get your Mortal-parent’s eyes shape or skin colour, but the fundamental structure of your body and powers will be Dark Elf. But if you had Jotun code and Mortal code you will be Mortal, maybe a bit more tolerant to the cold, but still Mortal.”

“So… Asgardians?” Anima asked.

“Asgardians are… flexible,” Loki said. “If you have both Mortal and Aesir code in the right places then you will have traits more or less equally from both races and therefore be considered Asgardian rather than Aesir. Same as a half-Aesir and half-Jotun or a half-Aesir and half-Dark Elf. Aesir code seems to have something within it that allows room for more of the other race to be expressed.”

“So Aesir are people with two lots of Aesir code?” Anima asked.

“Yup,” Loki said. 

“So you are Asgardian, because you do not look Jotun,” Odin said to Loki.

Loki grinned at him. “Nope. I’m special, and Jotun, and did I mention special?”

“Of course you are,” Odin said, suppressing a smile.

“In fact I am so special I shall take down this Lord Elbin for you, just because I can,” Loki said. “I shall humiliate him utterly so that he never again considers starting a cult that doesn’t have me at the centre of it.”

“I’d quite like to see that,” Odin commented.

Loki grinned. “For now though, I hope you shall be content with my beautiful singing voice.”

Odin groaned softly. “Do you have to?” he asked.

“Yes, Brother, I really do,” Loki said, rising from his seat as music began to play.

Anima grinned in delight and clapped her hands as Odin sighed heavily and resigned himself to whatever Loki had planned for the next ten minutes.

****

Daianya finished off her glass and looked around the table. Most people were almost done.

“Another round?” she asked, going to rise.

“Another!” yelled her friends in as loud a voice as they could manage as four glasses smashed onto the ground. Daianya rolled her eyes and headed back to the bar for more ale.

“Five please,” she ordered to the barmaid, who gave her a grin. 

“Good evening?” she asked, filling up the tankards.

“So far, we caught the street theatre earlier and now I think they’re talking about going dancing,” Daianya said.

The barmaid leaned in as she placed the last tankard down. “Well you can take me dancing anytime, if you want to,” she suggested, before withdrawing to see to the next customer.

Daianya picked up the tankards and made her way back to the table. Her arrival was greeted with cheers.

“The barmaid just offered to go dancing with me,” Daianya said to Norah, whose head whipped around so fast she almost broke her own neck.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” she yelled. “EVERYONE SHUT UP. DAIANYA GOT ASKED OUT BY THE BARMAID AND WE NEED TO HEAR HER ANSWER!”

Daianya buried her face in her hands as her cheeks turned red. “Please don’t yell quite so loud,” she begged.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Norah screamed again.

“Nothing! I said nothing! It was a flirt and I said nothing!” Daianya yelled back at her.

Tiree put a hand on Tarah’s back and gave it a gentle pat. “Not your type?” she asked Daianya.

Dainaya shrugged and drank from her ale. “I don’t know, it was just flirting,” she said. 

Tarah took a big drink of ale, draining the glass in seconds.

“Slow down, we’ve got all night,” Daianya said.

“I’m getting another, be right back,” Tarah said, leaving the table.

“Is she alright?” Daianya asked Tiree.

“She’s fine, just trying to figure some stuff out, which is proving harder than it ought to be,” Tiree said. “But she’ll get there, drink up.”

An hour later they were all easily tipsy, except Tarah who was completely drunk, and were wandering the main street looking for somewhere that served greasy food.

“There’s good, but the line is long,” Meydee said, pulling a face.

“I like their dough-rolls though,” Tarah said, slurring slightly.

“Shall I buy some? Go and sit down, I’ll stand in line, does anyone want anything else?” Daianya asked, waving Tarah and the others towards an outdoor seat.

She lined up, oblivious to the whispers behind her.

“She’s buying you dough-rolls, I say go for it!” Norah said.

“She’s buying _all_ of us dough-rolls,” Tiree said. “I say wait until we’re sure.”

“She’s so pretty,” Tarah said. “I like her hair. Oh no! I asked her if she thought about cutting it off! I’m an idiot.”

“You’re drunk is what you are,” Tiree said, “And an idiot.”

Tarah tried to punch her arm but missed. “You try having a crush,” she said.

“We need to settle this once and for all,” Norah said. 

They waited in silence until Daianya returned. 

“Why does everyone look so glum? Don’t tell me the alcohol wore off that fast?” Daianya said, dumping bags of hot greasy food down on the table.

“No, we were just playing a game,” Norah said. “You have to list your top five ultimate crushes.” She flinched slightly as Meydee kicked her under the table but she didn’t break eye contact with Daianya. “You first,” she said.

Daianya shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve thought about it,” she said, to a chorus of groans.

“Okay, _I’ll_ go first,” Norah said. “Someone needs to show you how it’s done. My top five crushes include Lord Frey, Bjorn Bjornsson, Thorvald Vogsson – you know, the singer? – Magnus Kalfsson and… Njal Leifsson.”

“Njal is decidedly cute, don’t you think, Daianya?” Tiree asked her.

Daianya shrugged. “He’s extremely big and has very broad shoulders,” she said.

“Now you,” Norah said, “Just name someone.”

Daianya chuckled as beside her, Tarah lowered her head to the table, narrowly missing a bag of chicken-bites. “Who cares?” Tarah moaned. “Daidaianyayaya is going to be betaythed, betrothed to _someone_ like _Prince Norbleen_ of _Vaneheim_. She can’t have a crush, or _five_ , she has to do what they tell her.”

There was a moment of silence which greeted this announcement, which was broken by Daianya, who was looking slightly embarrassed.

“Well, that’s a depressing thought,” Daianya said. “I have no idea what the King wants or plans, but my father told me that I am to remain here on Asgard at least for a while yet.”

“If you marry Prince Norbleen, you will have to live on Vanaheim, and then you won’t be a Valkyrie, and then I won’t be able to train with you, and _then_ I will get rusty and die in battle, so you can’t marry him,” Tarah said.

Daianya smothered a smile. “I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said.

Two hours later, Daianya lifted Tarah into her bed in the barracks and tucked her in. “She really drank a lot tonight,” she said. 

“She’s… she’ll be fine,” Tiree said. “I’ll keep an eye on her for tonight, make sure she doesn’t throw up anywhere she shouldn’t.”

“Thanks,” Daianya said. “I hope whatever’s bothering her gets sorted out soon.”

Tiree glanced sideways at Daianya. “Me too,” she said.


	4. Young Maidens and Their Plans

Anima was nervous. She kept fidgeting with her hands as she waited for Ratatoskr to arrive. She’d heard a great deal about the horned squirrel that ran from the top of Yggdrasil to the very bottom, listening and carrying gossip and news. How could a creature like that even exist? Especially given than Yggdrasil was only partially in the physically realms.

“Relax, Puppy,” Loki said from where he was lounging. “Ratatoskr is hardly someone to be scared of, I mean yes he’s the size of a house and five times stronger than the average warrior, and yes he can phase in and out of the physical world as easily as you use magic, and okay yes he has wickedly sharp teeth and a really big horn on his head, but he hardly ever uses it, he prefers to talk.”

“That was as helpful as you thought it was,” Anima said.

Loki shrugged. “I can’t make you be any calmer, but I can distract you if I try hard enough,” he replied.

“What time is he supposed to be here?” Odin asked.

Loki looked out of the nearest window and peered at the sun.

“Really?” Odin asked, “You can’t just look at a clock?”

“The sun is a clock,” Loki said, squinting. “He’s due any moment now.”

There was the sound of rustling, like the branches of a tree. Anima turned as she felt a change in the background magic in the room. A second later there was a breach in the air and Ratatoskr, the horned-squirrel of Yggdrasil emerged from within the twisting light.

He was a lot bigger than Anima expected, twelve feet tall with a rounded body and red fur. His red eyes looked from one person to another, before settling back on Loki.

“My friend!” Loki exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide and stepping forwards.

“Loki!” Ratatoskr said in a loud, chattering voice. “You are well?”

“Very well,” Loki said, giving Ratatoskr a hug and a slap on the back. “How have your travels been?”

“Dusty,” Ratatoskr said, “Ever since the battle on Svartalfheim the whole realm has been dusty. It gets into my fur every time.”

“Stop at my place as many times as you like to freshen up then,” Loki offered immediately. “Svartalfheim was a tragedy of Malekith’s making, I’m afraid.”

“The surface will not recover quickly, but there are whispers underground,” Ratatoskr said. “I hear them murmuring their lives away to one another, they choose to remain locked away deep where no one may find them.”

“Probably for the best, at least for a little while,” Loki said, as Ratatoskr turned his eyes onto Anima.

“Ah, the Mortal Goddess, what a strange thing, and neither the great eagle nor Níðhöggr knew anything about it. I had such fun telling them the other was in the know from the start, they were quite upset with one another.”

“Sounds hilarious,” Loki said. “This is Anima, Goddess of Magic.”

Anima knew enough to curtsey, which made Ratatoskr bow his head in return. “Do you talk, little Mortal, or do you let this endless annoyance speak for you?”

“Hey!” Loki objected as Anima stepped forwards. 

“I can speak for myself,” she said. “It is an honour to meet you, Ratatoskr.”

“So I am told,” Ratatoskr replied. “People often want to meet me, they want to know things, things that I hear and things that I remember.”

“That must be why you like Loki then,” Anima said. “He already thinks he knows everything.”

Ratatoskr threw back his head and laughed as Loki looked scandalised.

“Anima Odinsdottir,” he said. “How could you be so – ”

“Accurate?” Anima finished for him, fighting a smile of mischief.

“Well yes,” Loki conceded, “But I’m still hurt.”

Ratatoskr patted him on the back sympathetically. “You could stand to know a little more sometimes,” he said. “But I get the feeling that’s not why I have been invited. You have questions, Anima, Goddess of Magic?”

“I do,” Anima said, “About the history of Asgard.”

“Why would a Mortal take such an interest in the Realm Eternal?” Ratatoskr asked her, tilting his head in interest.

“This is my home,” Anima said. “I know I’m only Mortal, but I wasn’t born on Midgard, I want to know about Asgard, about how it came to be, and about Ragnarok.”

“You can’t prevent it, the Prophesy is Yggdrasil’s itself. Ragnarok _will_ happen,” Ratatoskr said quickly. “Even the Goddess of Magic cannot prevent it.”

“I’m not planning to prevent, I just want to understand it,” Anima said.

“Well in that case, perhaps I ought to take to you see Níðhöggr down in Mímisbrunnr?” Ratatoskr said. “He knows secrets of Yggdrasil even I do not. He bores into its very roots and gains its wisdom along with his meal.”

Anima stepped closer with her eyes shining, but Odin stepped in her way. “I have met Níðhöggr once before,” he said. “I think it might be best if you answered what you knew instead.”

Anima looked disappointed as Ratatoskr turned to look at Odin. “You love her very much, there is no doubt,” he said. “But your desire to protect your family will harm her – harm all of them – if you don’t learn to let them be free.”

Odin’s face was a mask of disapproval as he stared Ratatoskr down.

“Oh very well,” Ratatoskr said. “Ask me your questions, Mortal girl, and I will answer what I choose.”

Anima’s face lit up as Loki began making drinks for everyone.

“Has there been more than one Asgard before?” she asked, glancing sideway at Odin with a stubborn look on her face.

“I have visited Asgard many times, some of those times it was somewhere else, some of those times it was different shapes, but Asgard has always endured,” Ratatoskr said.

Anima frowned. “So the realm moves around? How?” she asked.

“Ragnarok is a complicated event, the destruction of a whole realm leaves violent scars and must be endured,” Ratatoskr said.

“Wait, so Asgard gets destroyed, but it also moves around, and it also endures as _Asgard_ , not New Asgard or Asgard the Second?”

Ratatoskr nodded.

“I’m a little confused,” Anima admitted.

“It is not so complicated,” Ratatoskr said with a chuckle. “The prophesy states that Asgard will be destroyed when Sutur’s crown is placed in the Eternal Flame, Surtur will then grow to the size of a mountain and reduce Asgard to rubble. Then the Seer shall guide the survivors to a new place, which shall become Asgard when the Eternal Flame reignites, restoring the realm’s connection to Yggdrasil.”

“That’s… none of the records support that,” Odin said.

Ratatoskr turned to look at him. “I have watched it, Allfather, I have seen Asgard fall and rise again. The Realm Eternal, forever renewed, keeper of the Eternal Flame, has fallen and risen again four times in my life. This realm will fall when the time is right. The prophesy cannot be stopped.”

“You are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it,” Odin said.

“I am. Sometimes flowers need to burn, in order to bloom again,” Ratatoskr said. 

“No point in worrying about it, have a drink,” Loki said, handing Odin a glass.

“What do you know about Queen Arneia?” Anima asked. “I only found out about her last night, but the Jotunheim stories say – ”

“She led the Aesir through the last Ragnarok,” Ratatoskr said.

Loki stuck his tongue out at Odin, who ignored him.

“Did she really go and live on Midgard for a while?” Anima asked.

“She did. Arneia, Goddess of Earth and Queen of Asgard, had a conflict with the God whose task it was to claim this place as Asgard. He refused to do so, and so her people lived on Midgard for many years. But her patience ran out and she forced him to fulfil his destiny.”

“How?” Anima asked.

Ratatoskr looked amused. “Painfully,” he said.

“So what you are saying is there will come a time when there is a Seer and some kind of God of Renewal, and when that happens Asgard will be destroyed?” Odin said.

“Oh yes. There is no stopping it, only preparing. I suggest you invest in a few large ships,” Ratatoskr said. “Or maybe your successor, or theirs, I lose track of the years, there are so many of them.”

“This is not acceptable,” Odin said.

“Then don’t accept it; it will happen anyway,” Ratatoskr said calmly.

Odin scowled and turned away from him as though to dismiss his words.

“Does Yggdrasil trigger the prophesy itself?” Anima asked. “Everyone says it chooses the gods, but does it really? Or is it just a natural end point once enough time has passed?”

“I do not know, Yggdrasil is not known for explaining itself,” Ratatoskr said. “Perhaps you should try and ask it?”

“Can it hear me?” Anima asked, puzzled. “I know people sometimes pray to Yggdrasil, but all the scholars say it’s too mighty to listen.”

“Oh, little Mortal girl, Yggdrasil listens, it listens more than I do. Whether or not it cares I cannot say, but Yggdrasil is always listening, I promise you,” Ratatoskr said, his eyes twinkling.

****

Amora, daughter of Sorsra the Unwed, sat on the sidelines and watched as her best friend, Frigga, spun around and caught the downward swings of two swords. Frigga’s face was screwed up with effort as she forced the blades backwards, knocking back her two attackers. One of them dived forwards again immediately, only to fall flat on their face as they fell through Frigga’s illusion. The other attacker began to swing their sword around wildly, trying to catch someone they couldn’t see.

Amora glanced at the sunlight falling down next to her. It had moved closer over the last fifteen minutes. She slid over further into the shade. Amora had fantastically smooth and soft skin, which was no accident. 

Beautiful, stunningly so, with long blonde hair that fell in unnaturally flowing waves down her back and green eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light, Amora’s primary asset was her appearance and she was fanatical about preserving it.

She caught the eye of one of Frigga’s opponents and smiled seductively, arching her back as she stretched and pushing her breast out on full display.

The young man was brought back to reality by a blow to his midsection, and Frigga reappeared, sword already swinging. He raised his own and lost it just as quickly. A moment later he was raising his hands in surrender. His companion, a young woman who had the misfortune to look _almost_ as attractive as her sister, scowled at him. 

“You were supposed to stay at my back if she vanished,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as Frigga tried not to laugh.

“Go again?” she asked.

The two of them both began backing away.

“I need to work on my runes,” the young man said.

“I’m not taking you on without help,” said the young woman.

“Give it away for the day, Frigga, come and sit with me instead,” Amora said. “You too, Lorelei, I have news.”

Frigga and Lorelei came over; Amora wrinkled her nose up at both of them. “You’re all sweaty,” she said. “You’ll stink soon.”

“Probably, so tell us your news so we can go and have a shower,” Frigga said.

“I heard from one of the maids, who has a sister who works in the palace, that some of the Asgardian royal family are going to visit us this year,” Amora said.

“They visit us every five years or so,” Frigga said. “That’s not news.”

“The difference is this year we will all be finished with our studies and able to go to court,” Amora said. “Frigga will get to go because she’s the daughter of a Lord, and I can go as your lady companion.”

“I’d love to see the royal court,” Lorelei said. “But my studies won’t be finished for another ten years.”

“That’s your problem. I’m going to court to find a wealthy lord to marry,” Amora said.

Frigga smothered a giggle; Lorelei didn’t bother to hide her laugh.

“Amora we are commoners! Our father is a fish salesman! No lord, wealthy or otherwise is going to marry you,” Lorelei said.

Amora rolled her eyes. “You are so unimaginative, sister. I know that all the young lords and sirs will flirt and play at love and then drop me the moment their parents introduce them to someone _suitable_ , but there are plenty of older lords with grown children who wouldn’t mind a fun and attractive wife on his arm.”

“You want to marry someone old?” Lorelei asked.

Frigga, having been raised as a lady, managed not to grimace.

“Only until he dies,” Amora said. “I’ll never have a title, but I don’t want one, not when I can have money. A lifetime of providing spells and potions for the common folk might make you a living, but not a _manorhouse_ living. I want a manorhouse.”

“So, you’re going to seduce the oldest, wealthiest lord you can?” Frigga asked, “Just confirming your plan here.”

“I was thinking of King Bor, if he comes to visit,” Amora said.

Even Frigga’s upbringing couldn’t stop her from bursting out with laughter as Lorelei exclaimed her disgust at the top of her lungs. 

“What? The last Queen has been dead for fifteen years now, if he’s ready to move on then I’m ready to greet him with a smile,” Amora said. “He’s got three sons and they’ve got children already; plenty of heirs. There’s literally no pressure on him to choose someone ‘suitable’, so why can’t he have a little fun with me? Then he’ll die and I’ll be the dowager queen, take my pension and go and live in a beautiful manor decorated however I choose.”

“No, no!” Frigga said. “I refuse to believe you are so cold-hearted. I know you like to flirt with anyone just to see if you can but even you couldn’t – wouldn’t – be so calculating when it comes to a serious relationship.”

Amora looked at Frigga through her long lashes, carefully painted black to highlight the unusual colour of her eyes. “I intend to live in luxury, if I fall in love well, that’s just a bonus,” she said. “But what I need from you is to convince your mother to let me be your lady companion. Commoners can fulfil the role but it’s not as common as using ladies from minor noble families. You have to help me convince her or my entire plan will be stopped before it begins.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been able to convince my mother of anything,” Frigga said.

“You convinced her to let you study magic here,” Lorelei pointed out.

“I fought her for a decade for that,” Frigga said, “And I’m still convinced that the only reason she gave in was because my brother backed me up.”

“How is Haewkyr?” Lorelei asked.

“Excuse me? I believe we were talking about me and my plan?” Amora said before Frigga could answer. “You have to try hard, if you say you will be happy to go if I go with you then she will say yes to avoid having another fight.”

“Or you could just take Amora with you anyway,” Lorelei said. “You’re fifteen hundred years old, you’ve been an adult for quite a while now.”

“You don’t know my mother,” Frigga said. “Every time I try to tell her no I feel my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth.”

“That sounds like a silencing spell, are you certain you got your magic through your father?” Lorelei asked her.

“Sadly yes,” Frigga said. “My mother is just…”

“If she weren’t a Lady, she’d be a fantastic dragon,” Amora said. Frigga swatted her, but she dodged out of the way. “Why are you hitting me, you know I’m right?” she said.

“My mother has a very forceful and persuasive personality,” Frigga conceded, “And her one and only goal in life for as long as I can remember is to get me engaged to Prince Norbleen.”

“Really?!” Lorelei squeaked. 

“Oh yes,” Frigga said. “I had deportment lessons from the moment I could walk. I had conversation lessons from the moment I could talk. I learnt to curtsey better than anyone else in the entire court before I was a hundred. She made me study the different cultures of the nine realms and their ruling families _and_ their personal topics of interest, as a Queen must also be a gracious host and a hidden ambassador.”

“Wow,” Amora said dryly. “She taught you how to succeed at a place you will one day spend lots of time in; how cruel.”

“I don’t want to spend a lot of time there,” Frigga said. “I want to be a shield-maiden, now that I have my magic training.”

“You haven’t told your mother about that yet,” Amora said.

“I wanted to tell her in person,” Frigga said, looking down.

“Sure you did. Face facts, Frigga, that will never happen,” Amora said. “Just give in, marry Prince Norbleen and have twenty seven golden-haired children.”

“Just don’t try to use any magic to ensnare King Bor,” Frigga said warningly. “One of his granddaughters is the Goddess of Magic, she _will_ notice and you _will_ be executed for bewitching a king.”

“Does that mean you will bring me to court?” Amora asked.

Frigga gave a ladylike sigh. “I will try,” she said.

Lorelei gave a squeal of excitement. “My sister is going to court!” she exclaimed.

Amora just leaned back with a satisfied smile.


	5. Vanilla Orchids and Men Named Scyth

Nal was settling a stack of pots just outside of her workshop when she heard footsteps behind her. It was Scyth; he had returned carrying a large pot in which was his vanilla orchid, which was climbing up three sticks which he’d tied together into a rough scaffold.

“It’s growing really well considering I’ve been keeping it in my room,” he said, setting the pot on the ground in front of her. “Your Grace,” he added hastily, peeping up at her.

Nal ignored him and examined the plant. It certainly _looked_ healthy, although she wasn’t an expert on orchids.

“It’s going to need more room soon,” she said, still somewhat coldly. She wasn’t a fan of people who interrupted her, although anyone carrying a plant was worth a _little_ bit of her time.

“I was thinking of repotting it and putting it one of the big greenhouses at the back of the palace, you know, the ones they grow the vegetables in? There’s a few climbing vines and things there it might blend in with,” Scyth said.

Nal shook her head. “The kitchen gardener knows exactly what’s in there; he’ll spot it before you finish putting the pot down.”

“Oh, well I suppose there’s always the abandoned one on the western side, there’s still some things in there, mostly weeds, but the green won’t stand out at least,” Scyth said.

Nal resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “That greenhouse is only empty because there was a fungal outbreak which affected the soil. In another two years it will be back in use again.”

“Alright, I’m out of ideas,” Scyth said.

“You could plant it in the Climbing Garden,” Nal said.

“Then it’ll belong to the palace forever,” Scyth said.

“It needs the space; do you want it to live or not?” Nal asked shortly.

Scyth sighed and scuffed the ground with his foot. “Of course I do, it’s just that… I don’t own much, you know? I intend to be here in the gardens for a long time if I’m able, but one day I might want to leave, and then what?”

“Then you take a cutting or a seed, plant it, tend it carefully, get it to sprout with new life and take it with you,” Nal said.

“You make it sound easy,” Scyth said.

“That’s because it is, or rather, it’s easier than trying to keep it in a pot forever. It’s a climber, it wants to climb,” Nal said.

“I suppose. Will you help me?” Scyth asked. “If I just plant it myself I’ll get into a world of trouble, but if you helped me then no one would dare challenge a princess.”

“Fine,” Nal said. “Let me get my shovel.”

“You want to plant it right now?” Scyth asked. Nal just stared at him. “Alright, sorry, now is fine.”

Nal went and fetched her shovel from her workshop. She saw Scyth craning his neck as she came out, trying to catch a glimpse of the inside before the beads swung back and obscured his view.

“I’m telling you, it looks like tree branches,” Nal said. “Come on.”

They walked across the lawn of the Tree Garden and through the gate, navigated their way around the winding paths of the Rose Garden and across the main yard at the front of the palace to the gardens on the other side.

The Climbing Garden was made up of a series of pathways encased in metal archways up which the plants twisted and rose. Every path was littered with fallen flowers of dozens of different colours.

“This is the most magical garden,” Scyth said as they walked. “I feel as though when I step out there’ll be a whole different world waiting for me.”

“That’s fanciful,” Nal said bluntly.

“Don’t you like a bit of fancy now and again?” Scyth asked her.

“No,” Nal said.

“Then why’d you make such a fanciful garden?”

Nal stopped and scowled at him, but he only laughed. “You look downright scary right now, but I know I’m safe,” he said. “You won’t hurt me while I’m holding a plant.”

“My one weakness,” Nal said dryly and began walking again.

They reached the Climbing Garden’s only hothouse and stepped inside. The air was warmer and more humid. Scyth made a sigh of contentment. “That wind was light, but it had a chill to it,” he said.

Nal shrugged. “I didn’t notice,” she said, walking to an area that was clear. The hothouse, like all of the gardens and garden structures, was enormous. The palace had always owned the land surrounding it, but it hadn’t been until Nal decided to take an interest that the gardens really came into their own, and Nal did not believe in small gardens if she could have big ones.

“This is a good spot,” Nal said. “It’ll get some sun through the windows there, and there’s plenty of room above it to grow.”

She set to work digging into the soil. Scyth set the pot down and waited nearby. “Uh, do you want me to do any digging?” he asked her after a minute. “There’s no shovel around that I can see but if you want a break I can take over?”

“I’m fine,” Nal said.

He waited for a few more minutes. “I feel weird just standing here,” he said.

“So feel weird,” Nal said.

“You don’t make friends easily, do you?” Scyth said.

Nal stopped digging and stared at him. “You’re not carrying a plant anymore,” she pointed out.

“No, I suppose I’m trusting that you won’t hurt me because of my natural charm,” Scyth said.

Nal stopped resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Fine, you can dig the last part, I will fetch some water,” she said.

“You could have sent me to fetch the water while you were digging!” Scyth said, taking the shovel. “We’re a team, we should be working together.”

“We are not a team. We are planting a plant, an activity that doesn’t strictly require both of us,” Nal said.

“But we’re doing it together, that makes us a kind of a team,” Scyth said.

Nal just walked off to find a watering can. 

****

Laufey, Son of Morag, was not doing so well. He had been on the run for fifteen years and it showed. He was too thin, too ragged, too unkempt. He had been turned away from the latest stronghold with a laugh from the doorkeeper; he’d never even had a chance to plead his case to the Queen inside.

The southern lands were of no use to him now. Some women had allowed him to stay a night – although not with them – before sending him on his way, but more often than not he had spent his nights huddled in hastily dug depressions in the snow. 

It wasn’t fair, he thought, he was a strong man, with much to offer to a potential child. It was just that so were so many other men, and Morag had birthed many sons, many of whom had already passed through the strongholds back when she had first died, before making their way to the court of the king. Laufey couldn’t offer the Queens anything they hadn’t already had the opportunity to take.

He should have gone with his brothers when they travelled, instead he had gone with the other group of siblings straight to the King’s court where he had been well on his way to success, until he’d lost a woman in the Cave of Kings, until he’d left the Cave without her, until he’d angered the King by his actions.

Laufey didn’t blame Nal, how could he? A woman will do as she pleases, it was only right. No. He was angry at King Grundroth for not understanding that when a small woman pulls away from you in total darkness it is not a weakness to have lost her. Laufey had searched every inch of the Cave on his way back to the surface. He truly thought she had gone out ahead of him. It never occurred to him that she might continue downwards into the dark and cold.

But Nal was a stubborn woman, that much was clear. Nal came back from the Cave as heir to King Grundroth’s throne, the only woman to ever have done so.

If she were Queen now Laufey would go to her court, fall on his knees and beg her to let him serve. Only the best Jotnir could conquer the Cave and become the King. Nal was one of the best _and_ a woman. There was no one like her, she was a goddess in Laufey’s eyes, and all he desired in life was a chance to worship her.

For now he kept his faith, stumbling through the snowdrifts and keeping himself comforted with thoughts of revenge against Grundroth and an honoured place by the future Queen Nal’s side.

There were people approaching from the west.

Laufey squinted at the figures. The snowfall was growing thicker and making it harder to see. He tended to avoid roaming groups of men. Most were simply travellers heading to the strongholds to try their luck with the queens, but there were always rouges looking to rob a man down on his luck, or worse, Grundroth’s men.

Laufey ducked down into the snow, watching with narrowed eyes as the group grew nearer and nearer. He went still, the lines on his body blending into the background likes cracks in the ice.

The group was made up of three men, and they didn’t spot him as they wandered past, chatting cheerfully about some old adventure. Laufey stayed where he was until they were well out of sight, before rising and going on his weary way.

One day he was going to live in luxury again, Laufey thought as he trudged with heavier and heavier footsteps. One day he would eat off fine plates until he was sick from overindulging. One day he would watch as the men of the army saluted to him as a strong and competent leader, second only to the Queen.

But in his heart he knew it was only a dream. Laufey had no plan to follow to make his dream a reality, no allies to help him, no way to reach Nal and tell her how he was her faithful and obedient servant. 

He kept on walking. If memory served there was a river nearby with a good supply of fish, and he hadn’t eaten since last night. He pushed onwards, kicking the newly fallen snow out of his way as he started on the downhill slope to the river.

If he only had the chance to leave Jotunheim, take to the stars, seek a fortune, then he could visit Asgard a wealthy man, ask for an audience with Nal and pledge his undying loyalty to her. One day when she took the throne she would need supporters, and Laufey was determined to be one. 

Of course someone else might try to conquer the Cave of Kings before that happened. If they did then they would challenge her for the throne and that wasn’t something Laufey was willing to allow.

He reached the river and examined it closely, looking for signs of fish beneath the slow-moving water. Laufey had hidden in the Cave for some time after escaping the King’s dungeon. He had not been idle either. Any man who set foot in that Cave had better be prepared for traps, snares and other deadly challenges that Laufey had set for them. No man would be able to challenge Nal as ruler if they didn’t make it out of the Cave alive.

Laufey dived into the water at the flicker of a tail. He grabbed the fish with both hands and dug his nails in to hold it, forming ice blades from his palms which skewered the fish and killed it, before bringing it to the surface.

It had been fifteen years since he’d last checked the Cave, he should sneak back there and make sure his traps were still working. Laufey tore into the fish with his teeth, crunching through the scales with an effort. Yes. He must not let his good work go to waste, and without a firm direction he was likely to start going a little bit mad. Returning to the Cave would help keep him focussed, for now.

****

Anima was up in her room back at the palace. Her rooms, along with two of her sisters’, were at the top of what was now referred to as the Princess Tower. The three suits were small for royalty, but they had been chosen by the girls themselves when they were six years old and even now at the age of fifty none of them saw any reason to change. 

Anima’s bedroom was the middle of the three, and as such was longer and narrower, to account for the bathroom which ran along the left side. The window at the far end was tall and reached all the way down to the floor, meaning she had no sill or seat upon which to sit. Anima didn’t care, she wasn’t one for sitting still at the best of times.

“I hate to say it, but I do wish Father hadn’t been there,” she said. “Ratatoskr may be an awesomely powered, incredibly untrustworthy individual, but I think travelling with him would have been fun _and_ informative. Uncle Loki would have let me go if it’d just been him in the room.”

_**“Maybe your father was right to worry, untrustworthy individuals rarely make good travel companions,”**_ said a voice from the pendant hanging from her neck.

Anima shrugged, although the owner of the voice wasn’t there to see her. “What’s the point of living life if you aren’t willing to take a few risks?” she asked.

_**“That’s what my son says when I tell him battle aren’t as glamourous as he thinks it is.”** _

“Battle is one of those things only those who have really lived through it understand,” Anima said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. Her biggest battle had been filled with the pain of loss, and she never wanted to fight another. “How is your family?” She asked, changing the subject. “Is your wife well?”

_**“Yes, yes, everyone is well. That cough that was going through the villages that I was worryin’ about didn’t end up turnin’ into something worse, and now the days are growin’ warmer I’m less worried about losin’ anyone out in the snow,”**_ said the voice.

It belonged to Senan, King of the Bouvinda, a small area located on Midgard. Senan had wound up as its king in no small part due to Anima’s intervention during a raid that would have otherwise wiped out his people. Those very same people had become convinced that Senan had the friendship of a Fairy Princess, and as such were in awe of him for dabbling with the Fey and returning in one piece. As a former sheep-watcher turned outcast, Senan had found this sudden change of fortune bewildering and a little intimidating, but had grown into his new role over the years and had become a very competent king. 

“Will you be at the clearing as planned then?” Anima asked him.

Since gaining his kingship he and Anima had not been able to meet as often as they used to, but twice a year as the seasons changed Senan would walk alone into the forest on a ‘sacred trek’ and stay all night. Anima would meet him there, and they would see one another in person. Between times, they used the communication device she had given him. 

_**“I believe so, yes. Everyone is already plannin’ a feast for my return from communin’ with the Fey, although me son has begun askin’ me if he might join me. He says one day when he’s king he’ll have to do it so he ought to know what to do.”** _

“Do what?” Anima asked.

_**“Whatever he thinks I do out there,”**_ Senan said. _**“I’ve heard rumours of everythin’ from dancin’ naked to havin’ a Fairy orgy to sacrificin’ babes, although I never take any little babes in there with me so I can’t imagine how that one ever got started.”**_

“Are you ever going to tell him that you and I sit and eat potatoes and chocolate and just talk all night?” Anima asked him.

_**“And ruin the magic? Nah, one day I’ll tell him it’s a test of will to sit alone in the forest with the wind howlin’ around you. Teaches a man not to be rash or panicky, somethin’ like that anyway,”**_ Senan said.

“Sounds like you’ve got it covered,” Anima said with a smile.

_**“I hope so, he’s a grown man now, nineteen and about to be married. Time keeps on movin’ forwards Ani-darlin’, and soon enough it’ll be him tryin’ to keep a son from doing stupid shit.”** _

Anima started laughing. “He’s not done anything to rash, has he?” she asked.

_**“Not really, but he complained no end when I made him watch the sheep, said a prince shouldn’t have to do something so low. I told him the Fey like a man who has worked a humble job and understands the natural world around him, and that stopped the complaints for a while.”** _

“If you’re not careful your people are going to think the Fey are responsible for everything,” Anima said.

_**“It’s just a story here and there, it’ll be somethin’ they tell their children one day as a way to entertain them by the fire at night, nothin’ more,”**_ Senan insisted. _**“One day when I’m dead and gone all my little stories will be forgotten.”**_

Anima just smiled. “So you say, but I know of many stories that have outlived their creator, and now all the scholars have to have debates about what was true and what was twisted. If you’re not careful your stories will live long past you until you wouldn’t even recognise them.”

_**“Well, that just means when me children’s children come to Tír na nÓg I’ll get to be the one to sit and listen to somethin’ new.”** _


	6. Thanos

Far away across the galaxy on a planet known as Matthios VII, Thanos the Titan stood on the steps leading up to the local council building and surveyed the people before him. On his right hand was a gauntlet, golden in colour and clenched tightly as he concentrated. Embedded within the gauntlet was a glowing yellow stone, the Mind Stone, one of six Infinity Stones of the Universe and, currently, the only one in Thanos’ possession.

The people before him obediently arranged themselves into two groups, split randomly, with a gap between them as they lined up before him.

It took effort to achieve the result. Even with the gauntlet Thanos couldn’t control anyone he couldn’t focus on, which meant that anyone hiding in nearby buildings would be spared. This way was messy, but Thanos was still learning.

There was a disturbance next to him, and he turned to see Brokkr the Dwarf and Brokkr’s frequent associate, Tanzir from Salkua, approaching him.

“What is it?” Thanos asked them as they came closer.

“I have come to tell you that I have engaged the Thieves Guild of Paraxela to steal the Space Stone from Asgard’s vault,” Brokkr said. “The contract was signed several weeks ago.”

“Can this guild be trusted?” Thanos asked as a man came running out of a nearby shop with a weapon in his hands. Thanos focussed and the man stopped running, lowered his weapon, turned and joined one of the two groups in the plaza.

“Trusted? Yes. They have a strict code regarding clients, in addition to an internal structure that prevents the individual thieves from knowing who has actually hired them,” Tanzir said. “The contract was communicated to all members. Those who wish to take it will do so. If one is successful they will take the item – in this case the tesseract – to the central headquarters, who will then inform the client that they have it.”

“It’s rare for them not to succeed at taking what they hired to take,” Brokkr said. “Every thief has their own skills; there will be some who can enter Asgard’s vault.”

“Good,” Thanos said. “I don’t want to attack Asgard without both stones. That much power in their hands will be disastrous for my plans, but if I have both stones again I will be able to arrive instantly, attack, and retreat before they realise I was there.”

“With respect, my Lord Thanos, you are far stronger than anyone on Asgard, and I can build you a ship that can take you there faster than their scanners can detect,” Brokkr said. 

Thanos shook his head. “Without the Space Stone, I can only control those I can see,” he said, nodding out towards the gathered crowd. “With it I can find every mind on Asgard and control them all at once.”

“And then what will you do?” Brokkr asked, confused.

Tanzir, a man much more used to the violence around the galaxy, turned his head away from the crowd.

“This,” Thanos said, and flexed the gauntlet.

The two groups turned to face one another. One group knelt passively down and tilted their heads back. The other approached them with knives and other sharp items ready.

Brokkr paled and fought not to vomit as the standing group slaughtered the kneeling one, their faces blank masks, utterly emotionless as they sliced and slashed.

No one kneeling on the ground even cried out. They just took the blows in silence and bled to death as they fell to the ground.

“It will take a long time to cull the entire population by half,” Thanos said, watching the people as they died. “With the space stone I can make them do it in minutes.”

“The Guild will succeed,” Tanzir said, still looking away from the ever-growing pile of bodies. 

“Why do you even want to do this?” Brokkr asked, unable to look away.

Thanos ignored him. As more people ran from nearby buildings to try and stop their loved ones dying he just raised the gauntlet again.

“What about the other plan?” he asked. “The one to remove Odin from Asgard?”

“That will be more a plan of opportunity,” Tanzir said. “Once you have both stones we will get to work on removing the Crown Prince, if only for a while. A diplomatic mission would be favourite, once Asgard is under your control there will be no one to call him back. He will have no idea what is happening until it is over.”

“Why can’t you kill him too?” Brokkr asked, sounding annoyed. “He’s the reason Hela is still walking around, everybody knows it.”

“Odin… resisted the stone,” Thanos said. 

“What?” Brokkr exclaimed.

“How?” Tanzir asked in a more normal tone.

“I do not know. I did not think there was anyone who could resist the direct force of one of the stones, but he threw off my attempts to control him the moment he saw them coming. Only my unexpected attack appeared to be successful, and I don’t know for how long that would have been,” Thanos said. “I will fight Odin in time, once I have destroyed Asgard and all its people, then perhaps he will find his mental barriers harder to maintain.”

“We will make sure he is removed from Asgard,” Tanzir promised. 

Thanos remained behind as they left, still catching new people and forcing them to form into groups. It would take months to divide the population but he was determined to do so. He needed to prove not only to himself, but to the people he left behind him on Titan, that his plan would have worked, and so he kept going, catching minds, splitting them into groups, culling the second group. 

He knew the idea was sound, all he needed was a proper demonstration, and the people of Matthios VII would provide.

****

Nal was walking through the gardens on her way to her workshop when she caught sight of Scyth halfway up the gate to the Death Garden.

“If the Head Gardener caught you you’d be fired immediately,” she said, causing him to jump, lose his grip and fall in a heap on the ground in front of her.

“You scared me,” he moaned from where he lay.

“Good. The Death Garden is not a tourist attraction, nor has it been named ironically. Anyone who sets foot in there without knowing what they are doing will almost certainly die, that’s why we keep it _locked_.”

Scyth climbed to his feet and gave her an awkward smile. “How long do I have to work here before I get a tour?” he asked.

“Will it stop you from trying to get in alone?” Nal asked him.

“I promise,” Scyth said quickly.

Nal sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Fine, wait here while I fetch the key. Do _not_ climb the gates.”

She turned and headed for the Head Gardener’s office. Scyth was annoying, but his enthusiasm for plants was at least something she understood. Unfortunately that enthusiasm was likely to get him killed if he wasn’t careful.

She knocked as a curtesy and stepped inside the office. The Head Gardener was rarely there and today was no different. She entered the code into the key safe and retrieved the Death Garden key, signed the little book to say she had it, and turned back to where Scyth was waiting.

Maybe after this he would stop bothering her. All the other gardens were unlocked and open to servants, nobility and their guests alike, it wasn’t as though he needed her help for anything else.

She arrived back at the gate and unlocked it, before looking up at Scyth’s excited face.

“Do not touch anything. At all. Under _any_ circumstances,” she said. “I refuse to be responsible for your foolishness.”

“I promise, your Grace,” Scyth said. 

Nal stepped inside the gate and held it open for Scyth to follow. He walked inside with a look of wonder in his eyes.

“I didn’t realise it would be so colourful!” he said.

“A lot of these plants are carnivores looking to attract their next meal,” Nal said. “Other are poisonous to us and use bright colours to warn us not to eat them.”

“Seems weird that both of them use colour, almost like us Yggdrasilians can’t make up our minds on whether to run from a hostile thing or towards it,” Scyth said.

“Yggdrasilians?” Nal asked.

“I made it up. We’re all different but we’re all connected by Yggdrasil. Seems silly to keep dividing us when we have so much in common,” Scyth said as they walked. “I mean, sure, sometimes we’re different and you have to acknowledge it, but other times we’re all on this crazy tree together, you know?”

“I suppose,” Nal conceded. “Keep to the centre of the path on this bit, the plants here have vines that can wrap you up and digest you.”

“Awesome,” Scyth said, shuffling closer to her.

“What kind of a gardener do you want to be, once you’re done with lawns?” Nal asked him as they walked through the twin walls of climbing vines and creepers that framed either side of the path.

“An experimental one,” Scyth said. “I once saw a tree that could grow eight different fruits at the same time. It was done with grafting and magic, and I’ve been wondering ever since what else can be done.”

“Do you have magic?” Nal asked him.

“No, but a rich enough gardener can hire mages to help them, so I was thinking if I earned enough for a decent plot of my own I could start my experiments and if they make money then I’d get someone in to help me with that bit,” Scyth said.

“Sensible,” Nal said.

“I can be, sometimes,” Scyth said. “Um, why do you like plants so much? I thought princesses were raised to sit in cushioned chairs and wear frilly dresses, and drink tea and wine, no offense.”

Nal allowed herself a second to think about her sister. Hela, the royal executioner who last wore a dress at about the age of three because Odin told her she could watch a lame horse being put down if she didn’t argue with him, Daianya, who could kick a man’s heart out through his spine if she really wanted to, Anima, who _did_ wear dresses but was perpetually getting stains on them from all the magical ingredients she carried around in her pockets, and Nal herself, who wore the latest fashions when indoors but could never quite get the dirt out from under her fingernails.

“None taken,” she said dryly.

“What’s _that_ beauty?” Scyth asked, looking up at a thick vine which had climbed up the side of the palace wall almost to one of the windows.

“That’s the Agony Ladder,” Nal said. “If you touch it the poison seems into your skin slowly. Once it’s past the epidermis the nerse finally begin to react. What follows is brief but completely agonising as the poison travels through your bloodstream and turns your blood into a solid. Then you die.”

“It’s almost reached a window, is that safe?” Scyth asked her.

“No. It’s scheduled to be pruned in another two weeks,” Nal said. “Until then, that room is off limits, which is easy enough because it’s just a store room for old junk.”

Scyth nodded. “Who does the pruning? Can I watch? Do they have to wear protective clothing all over?”

“The extremely well-trained gardeners, you can watch from _outside_ the Death Garden, yes they wear special suits,” Nal said.

They rounded the corner to where the bottom of the Agony Ladder began and stopped.

“Oh,” Nal said.

“Ouch,” Scyth added.

“We need to call the guards,” Nal said. “Stay here while I get them. Don’t touch anything.”

“I won’t, but should we help him?” Scyth asked.

“He’s beyond help,” Nal said, “and it’s better not to risk touching him without gloves, some poisons can pass from victim to victim. Stay here.”

She turned and hurried back through the garden paths, leaving Scyth standing before a very dead man lying at the foot of the vine.

Scyth looked up at the window and again and raised an eyebrow.

“Just a storeroom?” he muttered to himself, looking back down at the man again.

****

Hela stood over the dead man and tilted her head with interest. 

“His blood is solid,” she said. 

The guard conducting his examination glanced up at her nervously but didn’t say anything. A moment later he made a small cut on the man’s arm and opened the vein. The blood inside was indeed solid.

“That would have hurt,” Hela said with a smile.

The corpse had been removed from the Death Garden by suited gardeners and was now being examined by the palace guard. King Bor was standing off to the side watching as they worked.

“You said he was at the base of the plant?” he asked Nal and Scyth, who was looking at his feet and trembling slightly at being in the presence of the King.

“He looked as though he had fallen there, but not from very high, the poison of that plant is too fast-acting for him to have gotten too high,” Nal said. “If he’d brushed against it he would have made it quite a bit further before dying, the more he touched the plant the faster it would have killed him.”

“So he was trying to get into the palace,” Bor said, looking up at the window. “Why didn’t he just walk through the door? The main doors are open for palace visitors all day, which implies this man was not planning a social visit.”

“He’s got no identification on him, but we’ve taken a picture of his face to run through the palace archives, see if we can find out who he is,” one of the guards said.

“A killer or a thief,” Bor said. “If it’s a killer, then who was the target? And if it’s a thief, are we talking jewels or something more?”

“We won’t know for sure unless we identify him,” said the guard, “If we know who he is then we might be able to work out his motivations.”

“Where does that window lead?” Bor asked, looking up at it.

“A storeroom,” Nal said. “A good place to hide and wait until nightfall, especially right now as the room is off limits until we trim the vine. The highest branches are just below the sill.”

“Hmm… good thing the Death Garden is there then,” Bor said.

“That’s why I chose to plant it against the palace wall,” Nal said, standing up a little straighter. “The Climbing Garden is far from the palace for the same reason, those plants are safe to climb but you won’t get anywhere if you try it.”

“Yes, yes,” Bor said dismissively. “What can we do in the meantime? If he had worn protective clothing could he have made it into the palace?”

“It’s very unlikely,” Nal said. “The clothing isn’t really designed for climbing in, it would make it ten times harder to get up there and a single thorn could tear through the fabric if you weren’t especially careful,” Nal said.

“Still, I want a guard in that room from now until the vine is pruned, and I don’t ever want to see it that high again,” Bor said. “Your little hobby should not interfere with the safety of the palace.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Nal said, trying not to sound insulted.

Bor walked away towards where the corpse was being examined. He didn’t look back.

“I don’t understand,” Scyth said once Bor was out of hearing range. “Asgard’s gardens are famous among the nine realms, there are people who come here just to see them. How can he call it a little hobby?”

“The King is not interested in gardening,” Nal said. “If I’d built a new training yard he’d be thrilled.”

She turned and walked away, face pinched and eyes angry. Scyth ran after her.

“I think they’re the most beautiful gardens in all of Yggdrasil, which is why I wanted to work here so badly. I had no idea until I arrived that one person had designed them all. I thought it must have been a big team,” he said, jogging to try and stay close enough to talk.

Nal slowed down enough for him to catch up with her. “Thank you,” she said. “I started when I was a child, they let me have a bit of land to ‘play’ with, mostly because no one else wanted it and the Head Gardener at the time was more concerned with food and herbs than flowers. It wasn’t like the King gave him a very good budget. I used my allowance to buy everything at first, and now with the tourists the gardens make their own budget.”

“That’s amazing, truly, when I was a child I was still sticking sticks into dirt and pretending they grew into beautiful gardens, I never would have thought to start it for real,” Scyth said.

“I also had the good fortune to be a princess and to have no one care what I did with my spare time,” Nal pointed out.

“Well yeah, but no one can help how they’re born, and I don’t see any other princesses making beautiful gardens,” Scyth said. “Do you think that man was a killer? Like, an assassin?”

“Maybe,” Nal said. “It’s been known to happen, although not for a very long time. The King has enemies, all kings do, but most of them are on other worlds or on the run. Father is fairly popular, and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill my sisters. They could have been after a Lord though, some kind of local squabble that’s gone too far?”

“Do you always think like this?” Scyth asked her. “Like a…”

“Princess?” Nal finished. “Politics is something you have to deal with when you are born royal, so yes, I do.”

“I suppose,” Scyth said, shrugging. “I have to get back to work now, but thank you for showing me the Death Garden, even if we didn’t get to finish our walk through it. I hope that man turns out to be someone evil, that way even though he died Yggdrasil ends up a better place overall.”

“That’s… one way to look at it,” Nal said. “You’re welcomes, perhaps another time we can finish the walk?”

Scyth grinned. “I’ll hold you that, now that you’ve said it,” he said, and jogged away from her off towards the south lawns.

Nal pushed apart the beads that covered her workshop entrance and stepped inside. Despite herself, she was finding Scyth slightly less objectionable than he had been when he first showed up.

_Slightly._


	7. Lady Wearveil

King Grundroth of Jotunheim was seated on his throne nibbling on a cake when Laufey was dragged before him. He made a show of ignoring the man for several minutes, instead taking small crunchy bites of the cake until it was completely finished. Only then did he look up into Laufey’s face.

“So you were caught trying to re-enter the Cave of Kings?” Grundroth said, shaking his head. “Really, Laufey, surely you should have learnt by now that you do not have what it takes to be a king, you ought to stop wasting everyone’s time with your attempts.”

Laufey glared up at him defiantly from the floor. His face was bruised from the guard’s attentions and his lip was bloody. “Anyone can try the Cave at any time, as many times as he wishes,” Laufey said.

“That is the general law, but in your specific case I think we need to make an exception,” Grundroth said. “You have already proven twice that you cannot reach the end of the Cave, and tripping over your corpse in the dark would be so _annoying_ to those who still have a chance of succeeding. Not to mention that you committed the gravest of crimes, abandoning a woman when she needed you.”

There were murmurs from the crowd. Laufey sneered in response. “Princess Nal did not need me, she proved that when she conquered the Cave alone. She slipped away from me in the dark and I searched every cavern and crevasse on my way back. Had I known she had continued further down I would have followed her, but you never gave me the chance to rectify my mistake.”

Grundroth rose from the throne and walked slowly down the steps until he reached where Laufey knelt. He lowered himself down until they were ear to ear and whispered “You cost me a bride, Laufey, you were supposed to carry her out, cold and overwhelmed. Instead she walked out herself with no reason to stay. I cannot forgive this, boy.”

Then he pulled back and raised his voice so that the crowd could hear. “For the crime of abandoning a woman I sentence you to serve in the palace for the rest of your life, where you will do the lowest, most menial, most disrespected jobs. You must learn how to respect your betters, Laufey, you must learn never to leave a woman behind.”

There was a cheer from the crowd as Laufey glared up at Grundroth. Everyone knew that women had to be protected – Jotunheim’s entire society was built around treating their women like queens. Only Laufey knew that Nal had made her choice down in the darkness of the Cave. Only Laufey knew that he, and he alone, had respected that choice. Most of them had no idea that Grundroth had tried to do the opposite, tried to trick Nal into staying and _marrying_ him, like an _Asgardian_. Jotun didn’t marry, no self-respecting Jotun would ever try to make a woman choose to stay only with them, to have only their children, to be bound like a slave to one man.

Laufey was dragged away from the King’s Hall, eyes glaring at Grundroth until the king was out of sight. Grundroth was the evil one; Grundroth was the one who tried to force a woman to be something she wasn’t. 

Grundroth had to die.

Laufey was dragged down into the dungeons where the head jailor pulled out a metal collar. It was fitted with a tracking device and a punishment option. Laufey scowled bitterly as it was snapped around his neck.

“There you go,” the jailor said. “Don’t make trouble for anyone, the shock that thing will give you will make you piss yourself. The king’ll forgive you in time, he always does.”

Laufey stared at him. “I did nothing wrong,” he said.

“You upset the king,” the jailor said. “That’s all it takes sometimes.”

Laufey shook his head. “That’s wrong.”

“He’s the king, just keep your head down, do what you’re told, and you’ll be fine in a hundred, hundred and fifty years. King Grundroth is pretty reasonable for the most part.”

“Only because you haven’t upset him,” Laufey snapped.

“Yeah. And you have, so maybe keep your mouth shut,” the jailor snapped back, losing patience. “Get going, I’m betting the palace steward has a list of jobs already waiting for you.”

Laufey turned and walked away, eyes like thunder, mouth set into an ugly position. Grundroth blamed him personally for ruining his plan to marry Nal. Laufey already knew that a hundred years wasn’t going to change that.

****

Frigga sat by the window and watched the road. Her mother’s letter had indicated that she’d be arriving that day, and despite Frigga’s best efforts she had been unable to concentrate on anything else all morning. Her book sat in her lap with her page marked by her thumb, but she hadn’t read a word of it since sitting down.

A carriage came around the corner of the long driveway which led up to the main Academy building. It was one of the latest models, with the anti-gravity technology. Frigga’s mother always tried to have the latest of anything fashionable. 

Frigga set her book down and took a deep breath. Lady Wearveil was not an easy woman to please… or talk to. 

The carriage reached the front of the building and stopped. A figure climbed out and Frigga’s face broke into a smile.

Most Vanir men and women tended towards being slender in body shape, not thin exactly, and certainly not weak, just not broad or bulky like the Asgardians with whom they shared so much else in common. Frigga’s father had been half-Asgardian, and in Haewkyr it showed. He was almost six and a half feet tall, his shoulders were as broad as most standard doorways, and the muscles on his arms as thick as tree trunks. He scanned the building, saw her in the window and grinned like a man filled with good natured mischief. His blue eyes sparkled and his bearded face was full of easy charm.

The next person to alight from the carriage made Frigga’s smile freeze in place. Lady Wearveil was an attractive woman with a bearing more regal than the royal family. Her back was as straight as an arrow and her head was held perfectly with her chin raised. Frigga had been taking deportment lessons since she was a child and still the sight of her mother made her feel horribly slouched.

She slipped from the window and made her way down to the large entrance hall, arriving just as her mother and brother stepped inside out of the sun.

“Mother, Haewkyr,” she greeted, walking over to them.

“Don’t yell, Dear,” Lady Wearveil said. “A Lady doesn’t yell.”

Frigga clenched her jaw behind her closed mouth and gave her brother a hug.

“You look good, Sister,” he said.

“So do you, been spending a lot of time in the sun?” Frigga asked.

“ _Have you_ been spending a lot of time in the sun, Frigga, darling, I agreed to let you come here to study as long as you remembered your manners,” Lady Wearveil said.

Frigga forced a smile onto her face. “And you, Mother? Are you well?”

“I am doing wonderfully, my dear, this season at court is going to be one of the most memorable in a hundred years. King Dimcken has decided that his son must find a bride and has arranged event after event in order to facilitate the matchmaking,” Lady Wearveil said.

Frigga glanced sideways at Haewkyr, who shrugged. “King’s orders,” he said. 

“Most of the young women your age have been at court for five hundred years, but rather than give them the advantage I feel that the familiarity has shown that our Crown Prince has not found them enchanting, after all if he had there would have been an engagement by now,” Lady Wearveil continued. “You will arrive as beautiful stranger, a perfect lure for his Grace, and with your brother to help make introductions you ought to be able to spend plenty of time by the Prince’s side.”

A flicker of movement caught Frigga’s eye and she saw Amora standing on the stair behind Lady Wearveil, watching her closely.

“Mother,” she began, “You know I have always tried to respect your wishes, but I feel that perhaps you are getting ahead of yourself. From what I hear the Princess Daianya is still the preferred favourite of King Dimcken for his son.”

Lady Wearveil waved a hand dismissively. “If that match were to go ahead the papers would already have been signed. For whatever reason, King Bor has ignored or downright refused any attempt to make a match. This summer of activities is proof that King Dimcken accepts that a foreign princess is not a possibility. Now is the time for you to shine.”

Frigga opened her mouth to say something. ‘I don’t want to’ or ‘This is silly’, but the words died in her throat.

“Don’t stand with your mouth open, Frigga, a lady doesn’t do… that,” Lady Wearveil said.

“May I bring a friend with me, as a lady companion?” Frigga asked instead.

On the stairs Amora broke into a grin and clasped her hands together in hope.

“I was going to ask Lady Donvel’s daughter to be your companion,” Lady Wearveil said.

“Please? Allow me to introduce her at least,” Frigga said, walking past her mother and to the foot of the stairs. “Oh look here she comes now. Amora! Come and meet my mother, the Lady Wearveil.”

Amora descended the stairs as gracefully as a queen. Her back was almost as straight as Lady Wearveil’s, and her smile was a perfect blend of serenity and grace.

“Your ladyship,” she said, curtsying low.

“This is Amora, daughter of Sorsra the – ”

“The Charming,” Amora said quickly. 

Lady Wearveil looked her over with shrewd eyes. “You are not a noble, are you?” she asked.

“No, my Lady, but as a commoner I can never compete with someone of your daughter’s rank, unlike the daughter of a minor noble who might be looking to move up higher than her circumstances currently find her,” Amora said. “I should be happy to devote my time to your daughter’s success.”

Frigga stared at her like she’d never seen her before.

“Frigga, a Lady doesn’t stare,” Lady Wearveil said. “You seem to be a clever young woman, Amora, tell me, what do you know of the politics of the royal court?”

“Nothing but gossip, my Lady, I have not had the chance to know things firsthand, but I know that every good mother wants the best for her daughter, and a well-married daughter is in a position to find a respectable husband for her friends, a second or third son, perhaps,” Amora said.

“You have priorities,” Lady Wearveil said. “I can respect that. I suppose there is no harm in it, if you can remain as charming as you are now.”

Amora curtsied again, smiling beautifully. She didn’t take her eyes off Lady Wearveil the entire time that they were talking, but the moment she turned away, Amora’s gaze slid over to Haewkyr and her smile turned more seductive.

Haewkyr did not appear to notice. He stepped closer to Frigga and held out an arm. “Let me escort you to our carriage, Sister, and then we shall be going. How long will it take your friend to pack her things?”

“I’m already packed,” Amora said.

Now Haewkyr looked at her, the intelligence behind his eyes peeking out though his good natured and slightly goofy smile. “Oh good, I’m sure the servants can load your bags along with my sister’s then,” he said.

“Be nice,” Frigga said. 

“I’m always nice,” Haewkyr said. “Come now, if we leave fast enough we’ll be able to stop at that eating house just outside of the village. It’s got good pies.”

“What is the Prince like?” Frigga asked him as they walked outside.

“Charming, kind, friendly, you know, everything a future husband ought to be,” Haewkyr said.

Frigga rolled her eyes. “I don’t want a future husband,” she said. “I want to be a shield maiden.”

“I’ll back you, but you have to tell Mother yourself,” Haewkyr said immediately.

Frigga looked over to where Lady Wearveil was already seated in the carriage. 

“I’ll tell her tomorrow,” Frigga said.

****

Hela sat next to King Bor and, for the first time in a long time, paid attention.

“His name was Farou. He’s a thief from one of the planets in the Soclar cluster. He’s wanted, or at least he was, on seven different worlds. He was known as a master at scaling and breaking into high security buildings,” the guard said.

“So what was he after?” Hela asked, earning a nod of approval from Bor.

“We’re not certain. We’ve sent out some queries to try and find out if anyone has heard of a contract for any of the precious items stored here on Asgard, but so far no one has heard anything,” the guard said.

“So this master thief scoped out the palace, saw the vines climbing up to a small and otherwise forgotten window, decided to scale it and ended up dead because he didn’t know that the garden he’d broken into was the famous Death Garden,” Hela said. 

“If there is a contract then there will be more of them,” Bor said. “This happens every so often on worlds with precious items, but our vault is one of the most secure in the galaxy. No one has ever broken into it undetected.”

“Except for Loki,” Hela said.

“What?” Bor asked, turning to her.

“Loki stole the Tesseract a few times, Father made him demonstrate how, so I assume the gaps in security have been closed,” Hela said. “Father had me go over the security plans to the vault as a part of my lessons with him on leadership.”

Bor pinched his lips together. Odin did not often withhold information from his father but when he did it was nearly always about Loki.

“Very well, once Odin returns I shall speak to him about Loki,” he said. “Until then I continue to have complete faith in our guards and security systems.”

He rose and walked out of the room, noticeably more annoyed than he had been a moment prior. Hela meanwhile, decided that she still had questions, but not for the guards, for a real expert.

She made her way out to the garden and to Nal’s workshop, grown from a fragment of tree that had somehow miraculously survived a particularly bad rage of Hela’s, which had also been the only time she’d ever summoned a wave of power that caused instant death to that which it touched.

It still annoyed her to see the tree. It stood as a permanent reminder that her wave of death had been less than 100% effective. But right now she had other things on her mind.

“Nal, are you in there?” she asked.

Nal stuck her head out and regarded Hela suspiciously. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I want to know more about how that man died,” Hela said. “I want to know about the plant that killed him.”

“Why?” Nal asked.

“I like death,” Hela said, her tone implying that she thought Nal’s question to be rather stupid.

Nal’s eyes narrowed and she pulled her head back behind the beads. There was the sound of movement, and the beads wer swept aside as Nal came out properly with a book in her hands.

“I’m not planning on doing research,” Hela said.

“You don’t have to; I already did. This book was written by me,” Nal said, opening it and leafing through a few pages until she found the one she was looking for. “This is a catalogue of all of the plant in the Death Garden, where they came from and what they do to people. The vine is here.”

Hela took the book and read through Nal’s careful observations. “What a horrible way to die,” she said, sounding delighted. “It appears that the man was a thief attempting to break into the palace, after what we do not know, but he didn’t appear to have any accomplices, at least none that we can find, and that means there’s no one to execute.”

“How disappointing for you,” Nal said.

“If I wanted to kill a man using this vine could I take a cutting and hold it against his skin? Or does the poison grow weaker once it’s been cut from the root?” Hela asked.

“No, the cutting will work, but it will take far longer and hurt a lot more,” Nal said, “So only use it on the True Men’s Alliance, and don’t get caught. Executioners are not meant to be torturers.”

Hela smiled. “You’ve never cared about how I execute people before,” she said.

“I barely care now, but peacetime has a way of making you jumpy, so it’s better for all of us that you find a way to channel your… excess energy, away from people who haven’t done anything wrong,” Nal said. “And I personally hate the True Men’s Alliance and wish they’d all freeze in the winter snow until their balls fall off, but I’ll settle for a painful end via poisonous vine.”

Hela closed the book with a snap. “Can I borrow this?” she asked. “It’s actually very interesting.”

“Don’t take any cuttings without speaking to me first,” Nal said. “You may not be able to die but that just means the effects will hurt for a lot longer.”

“Promise,” Hela said, walking away.

****

Nal watched her go, making a mental note to warn Odin when he came back that Hela might be heading for one of her more difficult times. She cycled through them from seemingly calm to almost desperate for blood, and when she was really bad she held herself together only for Odin and the King.

Nal returned to her workshop and carefully packed away what she’d been doing. She had new plans for the afternoon and she wanted to get started.

She headed indoors, climbing the seven flights of stairs with the ease of decades of practice. It wasn’t that there was no other way, there was an elevator that ran up the entire length of the tower, but Nal, like her sister Daianya, had taken up weapons training and chose to climb the stairs when she could to help her stay fit.

Her teacher still visited Asgard every few years or so for a couple of months at a time, and Nal always scheduled refresher lessons with him. Unlike Daianya who trained as a Valkyrie, Nal’s lessons were far narrower in scope and focussed mainly on defence and ways to unbalance stronger opponents with her small frame.

She reached the top of the tower and walked through her bedroom straight into her bathroom to wash away the dirt of the morning. 

Fifteen minutes later she walked back out of her room wearing a dark grey sleeveless dress over a white shirt. It was in the style of the latest fashion, which Nal followed with interest. 

She headed to the library, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the librarian on her way through, and headed to the section on gods.

Over the course of its long history (or histories, if Ratatoskr was to be believed), Asgard had had a fair number of gods, and in the library there were several books detailing their names, titles, known powers, and their great deeds.

Nal picked up the book where she’d left off last time and opened it up. She’d started her research years ago, and was hampered by not truly knowing what it was she was looking for, other than answers to questions she was afraid to ask anyone else.

Fifteen years ago Nal had done something terrifying. She’d made the world freeze around her so cold it killed the God of Winter. She’d always felt a call towards the cold, and always put it down to her being Jotun, but as far as she knew no Jotun had ever done what she did.

All of her sisters were gods. Hela, Goddess of Death, Daianya, Goddess of Souls, Anima, Goddess of Magic. Was it so hard to believe that Nal might be one too? That what she’d done down there in the Cave of Kings was channel the power of Yggdrasil?

No Jotun had ever been a god, except for Loki and he didn’t count. For one thing he didn’t look Jotun at all, and for another no one actually knew what he was the god of, he just said he was one with enough confidence that everyone just took it on faith that he wasn’t lying.

Considering how often he lied about everything else, that seemed really silly to Nal, but Loki was a walking exception to the general rules of society, and she didn’t want to waste the energy trying to prove him wrong.

Besides, if he was right, then maybe that meant she really was a god as well.

One thing that was known about gods was that their powers could be reborn into another person, like how her Uncle Vili was the God of Revenge, but so had been a man named Víðarr who lived a thousand years before Vili was born. Hodr had been the God of Winter, but seventeen thousand years before him Skaði had been Winter’s Goddess. So if there was a god with powers over extreme cold and blind fury then maybe that could help Nal could figure out what she was. 

Winter was the most likely candidate, but also the only one she knew for sure she couldn’t be. Hodr had been alive when she was born, and while the powers could appear again, they had never done so at the same time.

Nal reached the next god on the list. Nanna, Goddess of Peace and Joy. No, not even close. Rán, Goddess of the Sea. Not likely, although the sea could be horribly cold.

Nal read over the powers of Rán. It didn’t say anything about cold, but she could manipulate water.

Nal glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then held her hand on the table. A patch of ice grew there as fast as lightning, a skill she had picked up from her time in the Cave. She waited as the heat from the library slowly caused it to melt.

She concentrated, trying to make the water move, trying to reach that feeling again. 

Nothing. It would probably be a bad idea to try it indoors anyway. What if she caused the temperature to drop to extreme levels again? Anyone who lived would be furious at her.

With a sigh, Nal refroze the water and put the ice in her pocket. It wouldn’t melt again until she wanted it to, or left it behind somewhere. But that wasn’t a god-trait; that was pure Jotun.

So was lowering the temperature of the immediate area, if they chose to.

Maybe she wasn’t a god? Maybe she was just a Jotun who pushed herself to the limits of what a Jotun could do? 

She looked at the book again. Forseti, God of Justice, Peace and Truth.

_Definitely not._


	8. Unwanted Visitors

Laufey was digging out the waste pits when General Thrym and his second in command, Commander Groupr, walked past. 

“How are you doing? Settling into your new role?” he asked.

Laufey turned and gave him a sneer. “Oh yes, it’s like a dream.”

“What would you say to joining the army instead?” Thrym asked him.

Laufey paused. “It beats shovelling shit,” he said after a minute.

“I was thinking about talking to the king and seeing if he’ll change your sentence to army service, but I wanted to know if you would even want that before I did,” Thrym said.

“If you can convince him I’ll be forever in your debt,” Laufey said.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t, King Grundroth is fairly lenient as kings go,” Thrym said as Groupr nodded. “He was mostly upset by you running from your judgement the first time.”

No he wasn’t. He blames me personally for his failure to secure Nal as his personal woman, Laufey thought. But what he said was “I hope you are successful, General.”

“I’ll talk to him today,” Thrym said. 

“Thank you,” Laufey said and went back to shovelling.

****

Thrym waited until they were eating dinner to approach King Grundroth with his request.

“I was thinking about young Laufey,” he said.

“Why?” Grundroth said.

“Because he had and still has a lot of potential, his mistakes came from being young, and being young is not a crime. I thought the best thing for him might be the army, give him a chance to learn some discipline and put that potential to good use,” Thrym said.

“No,” Grundroth said.

Thrym blinked in surprise. “Your Grace,” he began.

“I said no,” Grundroth said.

Thrym and Groupr exchanged uncertain looks across the table. “Your Grace,” Groupr tried, “A youthful mistake – ”

“Must I repeat myself again?” Grundroth said, looking up and glaring at Groupr, and then across at Thrym. “I have made my decision as King. Laufey betrayed me, he’s lucky to be alive.”

“Failing to locate a small woman in a pitch dark cave with hundreds of little cracks and crevasses is hardly a betrayal,” Thrym said. “I failed to find her under the same circumstances.”

“ _You_ remained in the Cave to look for her,” Grundroth snapped. “You showed your loyalty and you were willing to die for your king.”

“I didn’t,” Groupr said quietly. “I pulled Thrym out, otherwise he would have died. I chose to leave the Cave and save both our lives.”

“Don’t think I haven’t been thinking about that,” Grundroth said darkly. “You’re a good commander, Groupr, if you weren’t then Laufey would have a helper.”

Silence greeted his words. Every man at the table was frowning at the king. Grundroth saw their looks and shoved his chair back from the table. “I’m going to bed,” he snapped and stalked out of the room.

From a quiet corner of the table, Raolr, the King’s Spymaster, leaned forwards and spoke softly into the silence. “His Majesty has been under stress lately, I’m sure he didn’t mean that.”

“His Majesty has been under stress for fifteen years,” said Puluk, the King’s Head Healer, “Ever since Princess Nal returned to Asgard and has chosen to remain there.”

“Has anyone tried the Cave of Kings recently?” Thrym asked. 

“I don’t see how that would help the King’s mood,” Puluk said.

This time the silence at the table was of four men all refusing to be the first to say the same thought.

“I’m going to go and review the eighth squadron’s training session,” Groupr said, rising from the table. “Perhaps in time the King’s mood shall improve.”

The other men rose and left as well, no one felt particularly hungry anymore.

****

Odin returned the following morning with Loki at his side. Bor went out to meet them as soon as he heard.

“Son,” he greeted, before glancing at Loki, “Trickster.”

“King,” Loki said, swinging down from his horse.

“Still no bow?” Bor asked, annoyed.

“You weren’t honestly expecting one, were you?” Loki asked as Odin swung down.

“I want to talk to you both about our vault’s security,” Bor said, ignoring Loki and turning to Odin. “We had an attempted break in to the palace by a master thief.”

“They can’t have been that good if they got caught,” Loki said.

“They tried to climb a vine in the Death Garden and it killed them,” Bor said.

“Aww… you should be proud of Nal, defending the palace like that,” Loki said. “Where is she?”

“Why would I know?” Bor asked. “Son, Hela told me something interesting about the vault, something you neglected to tell me yourself.”

Odin frowned in puzzlement. Bor jerked his head towards where Loki was standing. Odin’s face became one of understanding and slight embarrassment. 

“Ah, yes, well, Loki broke into the vault some years ago, but then he helped me close the gaps in the security so that it can’t happen again,” Odin said. “I didn’t tell you because it was a relatively minor gap and it was already taken care of.”

“Anything to do with him I want to know about,” Bor said.

“I knew you liked me,” Loki said.

“Come inside now and I’ll catch you up on the thief. We don’t know what he was after yet, we’re only assuming something in the vaults because of his reputation.”

“He didn’t go for jewels and things of that nature?” Odin asked as they walked.

“I’ll just put the horses away, shall I?” Loki called out after them.

“Thank you,” Odin called back.

Loki watched them go with a pout on his face. Then he turned to the nearest horse. “Come on then, follow me. You know I have a son who’s a horse, very fast runner. Have you met him? He’s in the western paddocks most mornings.”

****

Anima was up in her room studying the soil samples she’d taken from the underside of Asgard. The sample was strange. It seemed to repel magic, something she’d never come across before. She pushed more power at it and watched with interest as it slid around it and off to the side.

The ground on the top side didn’t do that, did it? She’d never thought to test something like that before.

She put the sample back carefully and concentrated. In the blink of an eye she was out in her favourite of Nal’s gardens, the Butterfly Garden. Every plant in it was designed to attract and help butterflies to breed, and as a result they were permanently around. Now in mid-springtime there were hundreds of them, all fluttering around in dozens of sizes and thousands of different colours.

Anima knelt down and pushed some magic into the soil beneath her feet. It soaked into the patch of earth without any difficulty. She frowned in puzzlement. So the reason nothing grew on the underside of Asgard was because the magic prevented it? But what about life without magic?

“Stranger and stranger,” she muttered to herself. 

She rose and turned back to look up at the palace. Daianya’s window was visible from where she stood and she squinted at it to get a better frame of reference to teleport back.

A small amount of movement caught her eye and she stopped her spell mid-cast. Someone was climbing up the wall of the Princess Tower in broad daylight. They were using some kind of cloaking spell, but Anima would be a poor Goddess of Magic if she couldn’t see through something like that. 

_Are either of you in your rooms?_ she thought to her sisters.

 _Yes,_ Nal thought.

 _I am,_ Daianya added.

 _Oh good, because there’s someone climbing up the tower; they’re almost at the top and it doesn’t look like they’re going to go in one of the lower windows,_ Anima thought.

 _Whose window are they headed for?_ Nal asked.

 _I imagine they’ll go for the one that’s open,_ Anima said. _That would be yours._

 _Well then, I suppose you two could always come up and greet them with me,_ Nal thought.

****

The man in question made it to the top of the tower and slowly clambered his way around until he reached the open window with the orange and pink flowering vines draping from it. It was regularly open to the air and seemed like the best possible place of entry into the palace. He carefully climbed up through the vines and gripped the sill. With a heave he raised his head over the edge and scanned the room; it was empty. Satisfied, he heaved again and climbed into the room, carefully stepping to avoid disturbing the neatly made bed and setting a foot down onto the carpeted floor.

It was only then that he noticed how cold it had grown.

“We know you’re in here, the vines moved,” said a clipped and icy voice from his right. He turned his head and realised that the blue princess had been hiding in her bathroom.

“Your options are to surrender or be taken by force, one of those choices allows you some mercy,” said another voice, confident and low. To his left he saw the red-haired princess step out of the closet with a sword in her hand.

He glanced behind him at the window and saw with horror that the empty space had been covered by a thick layer of ice.

“Let’s have a look at you,” said a third voice, higher and younger sounding than the first two. The third princess, brown as the trees and dressed in bright colours had appeared on the bed behind him, had she been hiding under it?

He turned and ran for the door. The blue one made a hand movement and a wall of ice slammed up in front of him so fast he had to skid to prevent smacking into it. He drew his dagger and rounded on her, but had to spin again quickly as the red-haired one reached him and swung her own sword.

He caught the swing on his dagger and cursed as the force of it sent a shock down his arm to the elbow. He’d heard one of the princesses was a strong fighter but he’d assumed the one who’d briefed him had meant Hela, who had that kind of a reputation. It turned out he had been wrong.

He ducked her next swing and grabbed a vial from his pocket, dropping in onto the ground.

The room filled with thick smoke, the thief ran for the door again, using his hand to find and follow the wall of ice until he was on the other side. He left it behind him, darting in the direction of the door. Finding the handle he grabbed it and ran full tilt out of the room…

…and head first into another wall of ice. The impact made spots dance in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees, trying not to vomit.

“What…?” the red-haired one asked as all three stood in the doorway looking at him.

“Decoy ice,” said the blue one. “No one ever sees the second one coming.”

The master thief gave a moan and everything went black.

****

The three sisters all stepped out into the landing and stared at him curiously.

“Is he dead?” Nal asked.

“No, he’s breathing,” Anima said, waving a hand over him. “He’s got a fractured skull though, and some minor bleeding, there I’ve stopped it.”

“A harsh response,” Daianya said.

“He technically did it to himself,” Nal said. “I didn’t _make_ him run at the ice like that.”

“I wonder what he wanted?” Anima asked.

“Maybe he’s another thief?” Nal said. “I know the guards were theorising that there might be a contract out on something.”

“Surely he didn’t climb all the way up the Princess Tower just to get into the palace?” Daianya said. “The front door is open during the day.”

“Only to the public areas,” Nal said. “The private areas are tightly locked down, you can only enter if you have clearance or are accompanying someone who has.”

“Why our tower though? It’s not exactly the easiest to get into,” Anima asked.

“Maybe the thing they want is up here?” Nal suggested. “What have you got in your room?”

“Nothing! Father wouldn’t let me keep the Tesseract, the Aether is safely locked away in the deepest seidr-fold I could create, right now I have nothing of high magical value anywhere near me,” Anima said.

“I’ve only got plants,” Nal said.

They both looked at Daianya, who shrugged. “My weapons are worth a lot, but I wouldn’t have thought they were _contract_ worthy,” she said.

“Maybe it’s a kidnapping attempt!” Anima said, sounding excited.

“Kidnappings are bad,” Nal said.

“I know, but if it was one of us then it’d be more of a fun adventure, we can all handle ourselves against someone like that,” Anima said, gesturing to the unconscious man on the floor.

“I’ll call the guards,” Daianya said, stepping over to the nearest wall communication device. “Maybe he thought we wouldn’t be here during the day and was planning to hide in one of the lower rooms until nightfall? They’re all used for storage right now, expect for a few sitting rooms on the lower levels.”

“That sounds more likely,” Nal said as Anima pouted.

“I want to be special,” she said with mock sulkiness.

“Being a princess isn’t enough for you?” Nal teased. “Being the Goddess of Magic doesn’t do it for you? Controlling the power of two Infinity Stones doesn’t make you unique enough?”

Anima swatted her arm. “Clearly not,” she said, laughing.

“Hela will be pleased at least,” Nal said as Daianya made the call to the guards. “This one’s alive, which means she’ll get to kill him.”

“For being a thief?” Anima asked.

“For breaking into the bedroom of a princess,” Nal corrected. “It was a gamble, one he’s lost.”

****

Norbleen was sitting at his desk writing a letter of invitation to Daianya. He wished Haewkyr hadn’t had to leave, if he was here then the letter would already been written, because Haewkyr would have distracted Sir Kinndyr long enough for Norbleen to get it done.

“Did you extend the invitation to any of her friends?” Kinndyr asked.

“Yes, it’s already in there,” Norbleen said.

“She’s in the Valkyrie, do you think her friends are too? I mean, do you think they’d be able to beat me at swordplay?”

“Planning to challenge them are you?” Norbleen asked absently while trying to get the next sentence in order in his head. 

“Maybe, I’ve heard they’re all fierce fighters, and there’s something about a woman that can knock me on my arse that kind of appeals, you know?” Kinndyr said.

“I can’t say I find the idea of _anyone_ knocking me on my arse to be that appealing,” Norbleen said. “Can you be quiet just for a minute while I finish this? I can’t send it until it’s finished.”

“Tell her about my family’s maze,” Kinndyr said. “Tell her it’s considered a wonder of Vanaheim, like the palace gardens are on Asgard.”

“I will tell her, if you will let me,” Norbleen said again.

“Do you think she’ll bring her sister?” Kinndyr asked, suddenly looking serious.

“Which one?” Norbleen asked, “The deadly one, the icy one or the magical one?”

“Any of them, really; I’ve heard enough about Hela to know I never want to meet her. They say Nal can freeze a man’s… ah… freeze a man if he’s not careful, and I don’t know anything about magic,” Kinndyr said. “I’m not sure what I’d talk about.”

“Normal things, probably,” Norbleen said. “Like interests and things you hate.”

“I hate spicy food,” Kinndyr offered. “I can’t see that as being something to bond over though. Tell her about the wonderland party I’m going to throw. Parties need as many guests as possible so she should bring as many friends as possible, that’s just logic.”

Norbleen sighed again and tried to finish his letter. Everyone seemed to think his idea to invite Daianya and her friends was a great idea, but for very different reasons. Norbleen had just thought she might like to see some of the places he described in his letters. He certainly wanted to see more of Asgard than just the ride down the Bifrost and the guests rooms of the palace.

“Have you told your father yet?” Kinndyr asked, making Norbleen jump with sudden fear.

“Told him what?” Norbleen asked, trying not to look nervous.

“That you’ve invited the princess and her friends on a holiday of course,” Kinndyr said. “What else?”

“Yes, I’ve told him. He thinks it’s a great idea,” Norbleen said, calming down.

“He still wants you to marry her,” Kinndyr said. 

“I know,” Norbleen said. “It seems that half the court wants me to marry Daianya, and the other half wants me to marry their daughters.”

“I wonder what Frigga’s like?” Kinndyr mused. “I haven’t seen her since she left to go and study, and we were children then. She was very pretty though, if I remember correctly.”

“Haewkyr says she’s nothing like their mother,” Norbleen said. “That’s all I know.”

“Lady Wearveil always makes me think I have dirt on my robe,” Kinndyr said. “But I also kind of want to marry her? Like not really, she’s friends with my mother, but she has this way of making everyone look at her that terrifies and attracts me at the same time.”

“Hopefully that means Sar Frigga is more attractive than terrifying,” Norbleen said. “There, done. Now I can _finally_ send it.”

“Did you include the bit about – ”

“It’s _done_ Kinndyr,” Norbleen said. “Anything else you want them to know you can tell them when they get here.”


	9. The Trials of Relationships

“So that makes two men then,” Scyth said. “I wonder what they want so badly?”

The guards are still trying to work it out,” Nal said. “There’re a lot of powerful artefacts in the weapons’ vault, but which specific one they’re after is a mystery.”

“Maybe they’re not after an item at all. Maybe it’s a kidnapping!” Scyth said.

“Why do you sound excited about that?” Nal asked him.

“I’m not _excited_ exactly. It’s just that a kidnapping is so much more impressive than a theft. Oh, wow, you took something that was sitting on a shelf behind a locked door, so impressive. But a kidnapping is creeping around at night, putting guards to sleep, stealing away your target in a rolled up blanket – ”

“Kidnapped many people, have you?” Nal asked him.

“No! Sorry, I guess it feels differently if you’re a princess. I bet people have tried to kidnap you before,” Scyth said.

“No, actually,” Nal said. “Asgard is a stable realm for the most part, hardly any attacks on the royal family.”

“Good. If someone kidnapped you then who’d mark out the flower beds for the new garden?” Scyth asked with a twinkle in his eye.

He was on his knees, laying out rocks to form a border on Nal’s newest project. Nal was on the opposite side of what would become a garden bed, doing the same.

“That man was a fool to try and come in through the Princess Tower anyway,” Nal said. “Anima put all kinds of security spells on it back when she was working on the Aether and the Tesseract. Those spells are still active, even though both are now locked away elsewhere.”

“So what you’re telling me is if I climb up to your window with a rose clenched between my teeth I’m probably going to get stabbed,” Scyth said.

“Uh… um... yes, probably,” Nal said, turning away from him and looking out over the lawn as a soft purple blush tinged her cheeks.

“Hello my princess, miss me?” said Loki, interrupting them.

“From this distance?” Nal asked him, sounding slightly relieved to be interrupted.

“Rude,” Loki said with good humour. “Who is this?”

“I’m Scyth, Sir,” Scyth said.

“Loki’s not a Sir, he’s not even a Lord,” Nal said. “He’s a Loki.”

“That is true,” Loki said, kneeling down on the ground next to her. “Although you can call me Sir if you like, I know I do. And what is this area going to be?”

“Scented garden,” Nal said, giving him a smile. “But because everything in it is going to smell, I need to make sure there’s enough space between everything so that the scents don’t clash.”

“I look forward to inhaling deeply in another year or so,” Loki said. “You know, my castle?” he glanced over at Scyth. “I own a castle,” he said to him, before turning back to Nal. “My castle has a very small garden area just at the front, as well as some thin strips of land either side of the road leading up to it. Would you do me the favour of helping me plan out the best garden for such a tiny space?”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something,” Nal said.

“So what do you do, Scyth? Other than help my princess mark out garden beds?” Loki asked.

“Um… well… lawns Sir, I mean… Loki… Sir…” Scyth stammered.

“Lawns,” Loki repeated. “And how are the lawns?”

“Same as always, that’s why I’m helping out here,” Scyth said, a little more boldly.

Loki picked up a rock and examined it. “This one is pretty,” he said. “I’m going to keep it.”

“It’s a rock. There’s hundreds of them in the gardening supply sheds,” Nal said.

“But this one is pretty,” Loki insisted. “It’s got a streak of blue in it.”

“As you wish,” Nal said, rolling her eyes.

“Do you like rocks, Scyth?” Loki asked him.

“They have their place in the world,” Scyth said. “I can’t say I _like_ them, but I don’t dislike them either.”

“I heard about the thief breaking into you bedroom,” Loki said. 

“To be fair, if Anima wanted to she could have teleported him off the tower right into a cell,” Nal said. “Or I could have turned the outside of the tower into a wall of ice and sent him sliding painfully down to the ground. But we decided to confront him instead; it seemed like the best option at the time.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m a big fan of confronting people,” Loki said. “I’ve got a few on my hit list right now that I have to work through.”

“Or you could let the authorities handle it, that’s why we have them,” Scyth said. 

“I prefer to do my own dirty deeds,” Loki said, looking over at him.

“Lords and Ladies often do, and they never see the inside of a cell for it either,” Scyth said.

Nal frowned at both of them. “Can we get on with the garden please?” she asked.

Scyth stood up and brushed the dirt off his knees. “Sorry, your Grace, I’ll be back later but for now I have to check on the lawns,” he said.

Nal waited until he was out of sight, then swatted Loki on the arm.

“Why?” Loki asked her.

“You made him leave,” Nal said.

“You heard him, he had lawns to see to,” Loki said.

“Why did you keep needling him?” Nal asked.

“I don’t like him,” Loki said. 

“That’s not a good reason,” Nal said.

“Isn’t it? I often needle people I don’t like,” Loki said.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t,” Nal said. “Maybe you should be nice to people until you get to know them and not rub in the fact that you’re nobility. He’s right you know, Lords have their own rules. If a Lord ran him down right now a little wergild to his family and it would be over. Except he’d be dead and no one would see any real justice.”

“I’m not nobility,” Loki said. “I’m me, I demand noble treatment and so I get it. He could try it if he wanted to.”

“That’s not how the world works for most people. Scyth is nice, and he likes gardens, and he likes… he likes me, which is more than I can say for any noble,” Nal said. “So don’t chase him away.”

“I like you,” Loki said.

“And as you pointed out, you are not noble so my point stands,” Nal said. 

Loki smiled at her. “You got me,” he conceded. 

“Hand me that bag,” Nal said, holding her hand out for it.

Loki picked up the bag of rocks and passed it over. For a second their fingertips almost brushed but he twisted his hand at the last second.

Nal took the bag and held it between them. “You like me, but you don’t trust me,” she said.

“I don’t trust anyone,” Loki said, “Except my mother, but that’s because she’d scold me if I didn’t.”

“Just be nice to my friends,” Nal said, setting the bag down and reaching inside for more rocks.

“He’s a friend now?” Loki asked. “How come I didn’t hear about this sooner?”

“You weren't here,” Nal said. “You miss out on things if you aren’t here.”

“I had a castle to rebuild,” Loki said, “And one day I hope you will come and see it in all its glory.”

“Of course I will, when you need me to do the garden,” Nal said.

“How about when I ask you to come for dinner?” Loki asked her, rising from the ground.

Nal looked up at him through her lashes. “Ask me,” she said.

“Tomorrow,” Loki said, taken aback, “I’ll ask you tomorrow.”

“Coward,” Nal said, turning back to her work with a smile.

****

They had stopped at an inn for the night, although calling it an inn was underselling it by a large margin. The Rose Petal catered specifically to the nobility and it showed. Frigga’s room was three times the size of that of a regular, commoner catering inn, and it had a private bathroom to go with her enormously comfortable bed.

She was dressing for dinner, something she hadn’t had to do since the last time she’d visited home.

Her mother would notice if anything was out of place.

Frustrated at the way her hair frizzed like a halo around her head she sighed deeply and tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter if her mother was disappointed, Vanaheim wouldn’t explode if Frigga Folencedottir had frizzy hair.

Her dress had a slight wrinkle from being packed. She sighed in defeat, glared down at it and concentrated. A whisper of magic flowed downwards and the wrinkle disappeared to normal gaze beneath an illusion of perfection. Another whisper took care of her hair.

A knock on the door interrupted her privacy.

“Who is it?” she called out.

There was no answer.

Frigga crossed the room and opened the door.

“A Lady does not shout through doorways,” Lady Wearveil said, standing on the threshold. 

“If a lady does not do so then a lady will remain ignorant, and wilfully so,” Frigga said in her most proper tone. A thousand years of elocution lessons made her sound positively regal.

But it was no match for Lady Wearveil’s millennia of personal experience at the royal court. “A Lady is never ignorant if she is well prepared,” Lady Wearveil said, waiting on the threshold.

“Please come in, Mother,” Frigga said, stepping back. She wondered what would happen if she didn’t invite her mother in, but it didn’t seem worth the fight.

“I have received news from the court,” Lady Wearveil said once the door was closed behind her, “From the Queen herself. Prince Norbleen is planning to take a holiday before the summer season begins. He will be going with a small group of close friends, including your brother… and Princess Daianya of Asgard.”

“I thought King Bor was set against a marriage?” Frigga said, trying to supress her sudden delight.

“The Queen has not yet heard what the Princess’ reply will be,” Lady Wearveil said. “I expect a refusal, given the history, but then again perhaps with the realms at peace King Bor finally has time to consider things like marriage.”

Frigga wanted to jump for joy but she held herself as gracefully as a dancer. “If a marriage between them does go ahead, then I shall be at a loose end,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Lady Wearveil said at once. “If Norbleen can’t have you then Sir Kinndyr is available. He’s the eldest and the heir to his father’s vast estate. Haewkyr knows him, he’s a friend of the Prince’s, he can introduce you.”

“Or,” Frigga said, gathering her courage, “I could be left to pursue other interests. Interests like magic and… beingashieldmaiden.”

“Don’t mumble dear, a Lady doesn’t mumble,” Lady Wearveil said immediately. 

Frigga was convinced her mother was the only person in the nine realms who could pronounce a capital letter. 

“I don’t want to be a lady of the court,” she said as her hands started trembling. “I want to be a shield maiden.”

“Five hundred years ago you wanted to be a witch. I let you have lessons, now you must do your duty,” Lady Wearveil said.

“Haewkyr is the heir to our estate, why is it so important for me to marry someone rich and powerful?” Frigga asked her.

“Because wealth and power are security,” Lady Wearveil said; her tone was growing clipped. “I have told you this, Frigga, wealth and power can rise and fall with the tide. If Haewkyr manages his estates well then he can care for you if things go badly, and if you marry someone with wealth and power then you will be in a position to help him if his fortunes fade. Alliances are everything in this world. Without wealth and power you have nothing. I want you to be safe.”

“But not happy,” Frigga retorted.

“Happiness can be found anywhere if you look hard enough,” Lady Wearveil said. “I don’t want to hear any more about this. Shield maidens are one step above acrobats and dancers. They are a novelty that has outlasted its welcome. At least the army is useful, although hardly respectable for a maiden of your rank.”

Frigga turned away, anger rising. “I – ”

“Will come to dinner and stop being so childish,” Lady Wearveil said, heading for the door, “And I will hear no more about any of this.”

She left without another word. Frigga stared at the door for a moment before letting out a very unladylike growl and punching the nearest cushion.

There was a knock on her door. 

“Who is it?” Frigga called out vindictively.

“Me”

Amora. Frigga walked over and opened the door. Amora looked amazing. Her dress was an alluring blue colour with undertones of green that picked up the colour of her eyes. Her blond hair was never frizzy, and fell in cascading waves down her back. Frigga would have thought it a spell had Amora not showed up at the Academy already looking like that.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” Frigga said. “Like the sort of woman my mother would want as a daughter.”

Amora’s face became slightly pitying. “She’s very stern, but there’s a lot of wisdom in her words,” she said, walking into the room and picking up a hair ribbon. “Let me tie that frizz back a bit,” she added.

“How did you see it?” Frigga asked.

“I studied how to spot magic, extensively in fact,” Amora said. “You can fool your mother with your illusions, but not me.”

Frigga sat down in the chair and let Amora work on her hair.

“Mother is determined to see me married. Apparently that’s the only way to be safe and secure,” Frigga said.

“Isn’t it? Money equals security, get money, have security. Makes sense to me,” Amora said. “Only I’d marry old so I don’t have to deal with him forever.”

“I remember you telling me,” Frigga said. “Still banking on that, are you?”

“I haven’t had a chance to scope out the court yet, but essentially yes,” Amora said. “You should listen to the meaning of your mother’s words rather than the words themselves. She talks like a woman who has known poverty.”

Frigga didn’t say anything. A Lady did no tell other peoples’ secrets.

“There, hair’s all done. Shall we walk down together?” Amora asked.

Frigga was about to say yes when there was a knock on her door. Amora walked over and opened it before Frigga could say anything. Haewkyr stood there, and he smiled when he saw her seated at the vanity table.

“Settling in to your new roles?” he asked, looking from Frigga to Amora.

“Amora was just helping me with my hair,” Frigga said.

“I wanted a word before we went down to dinner,” Haewkyr said.

“I’ll see you down there,” Amora said and ducked out past him with a flirtatious smile.

Haewkyr gave her a friendly nod and closed the door. “She’s a bit of a flirt, isn’t she?” he said.

“Amora knows how to reduce a man to a puddle,” Frigga said, “It’s a skill.”

“I’m sure it is,” Haewkyr said. “I wanted to talk to you about Prince Norbleen.”

Frigga groaned and lowered her head to the table. “Not you too,” she moaned.

“Relax, my news is good,” Haewkyr said.

“Is it that he’s going on a holiday and inviting the Princess Daianya? Because Mother already told me,” Frigga said.

Haewkyr blinked. “How…?” he said and then shook himself. “Honestly? I should stop being surprised. Our mother has a better spy network than old Snefaker.”

“Who?”

“The King’s spymaster; he’s not very good, according to Norbleen,” Haewkyr said, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Mother knows everything about everyone. I’d be exhausted every night if I had to keep track of things like that,” Frigga said. “She’s already told me that my backup husband will be Sir Kinndyr.”

“He’s alright,” Haewkyr said, “A bit overeager sometimes but a good heart. Did you tell Mother that you wanted to be a shield maiden instead?”

“I did,” Frigga said.

“And…?”

“And my backup husband in Sir Kinndyr,” Frigga said. 

Haewkyr threw his head back and laughed. “At least you’ll be able to control him. Flowers every day, jewels every anniversary, stay as much or as little as you like at court. Kinndyr’s too kind for his own good sometimes,” Haewkyr said.

Frigga just shook her head. “I know deep down she wants me to be safe, she said as much, but… but you are nothing like Father. You aren’t going to lose all your money and then die and leave you family with nothing but debt.”

“Of course not; Mother sent me to the best schools in Vanaheim to make sure that would never happen. The estate is doing well, amazingly so for one of its size, I will never let you struggle. If you want to be a shield maiden I’ll buy you your armour,” Haewkyr said. “Don’t worry about Mother’s plans. Plans have a way of changing unexpectedly.”

Frigga smiled at him. “Are you going with Prince Norbleen on his holiday?” she asked.

Haewkyr shrugged carelessly. “I’m one of his closest friends, of course I’m invited. I'm looking forward to meeting the Princess too, who knows, maybe she'll like me instead. You can't tell me Mother won't approve.”

Frigga stared at him for a long time, then smiled and shook her head.

“What?” Haewkyr asked her.

“Nothing,” Frigga said, “But unlike Mother I see with more than eyes.”


	10. Dreams and Invitations

Daianya was woken in the morning by the servant arriving with breakfast. She yawned hugely and climbed out of bed to get the door. She could have left it unlocked and allowed the servant permission to just come in with the tray, but Daianya preferred her privacy over sleeping in.

“Good morning, your Grace,” said the servant with a smile.

“Good morning,” Daianya replied.

She had a letter. It was stamped with Prince Norbleen’s seal. Daianya gave the servant a nod of thanks and picked up the letter.

She heard the knock on Anima’s door followed by the sound of her sister’s voice as she scanned the words. A smile crept onto her face as she read.

 _Do you two want to eat in here?_ she asked.

They waited until the servant had disappeared in the elevator before Anima and Nal carried their trays over to Daianya’s room.

“Good morning,” Daianya said to both of them.

Anima had clearly just gotten out of bed. Her brown hair was a tangled mess and her dressing gown had been hastily pulled on and wasn’t tied up.

Nal, by contrast, was already dressed in a practical, sleeveless, brown dress over a lighter brown shirt, the better to hide the dirt of the garden.

“Plans?” Daianya asked her.

“I’m mapping out the rest of the new garden, and helping with the weeding in the experimental greenhouse,” Nal said, sitting down.

“I’ve received a letter from Prince Norbleen,” Daianya said. “He’s invited me to come and visit Vanaheim.”

“Do you want to go?” Nal asked her.

“I think so, I mean, yes, I do. There are a lot of places in Vanaheim I’ve always wanted to see and he’s mentioned a few of them as part of his planned trip. I just don’t want anyone to think anything is going on,” Daianya said, putting the letter down.

“Is anything going on?” Nal asked her immediately. Anima peered at her suspiciously over her teacup.

“No,” Daianya said firmly. “There never was, we’re just friends and anything more than that is just in the imaginations of people with nothing better to think about.”

“You think the King has nothing better to think about?” Nal said. “I know the idea of marrying you off to Norbleen has been floating around for years.”

“I don’t think they’ll ever get rid of you,” Anima said. “You’re the only good one.”

“What?” Daianya asked, turning to look at her still bleary-eyed sister.

“You know, more stable than Hela, more Aesir than Nal, more immortal than me. Everyone with an ounce of sense knows that you are the favourite heir to the throne among the people of Asgard. If King Bor sends you to Vanaheim then that’s a public declaration that Hela is his choice to succeed Father, and she’s terrible, so that can never happen.”

“Hela is the heir apparent. If King Bor didn’t want her in that position he would have done something about it by now,” Daianya said.

Anima shook her head as Nal spoke. “Hela is a useful weapon in winning battles and fighting wars. The King is not going to throw her away until the last possible moment, but I doubt he trusts her to be a good ruler. He’ll have to do something about the official line of succession before Father takes the throne though, because Father has a blind spot when it comes to Hela, he thinks she’s redeemable.”

“I don’t like this,” Daianya said. “It sounds underhanded.”

“Are you seriously telling me that you think Hela would be good for Asgard?” Nal said.

“No, she’s cancer, and she’d be terrible for Asgard,” Daianya said. “But no one’s so much as hinted at a change in succession; if they’re all planning something behind her back it strikes me as wrong.”

“If they were to tell her openly about disinheriting her she’d go ballistic,” Nal said as Anima nodded. “Although I agree that they should have let you in on the secret.”

“There’s always the possibility that there is no secret, and that Hela is still the heir in their minds because they think she can change,” Daianya said.

All three women paused in thought.

“Nah,” Anima said. “It’s far more likely there’s just a lot going on that we don’t know about.”

**** 

Daianya submitted a request to see the King after breakfast before heading down to the barracks. 

“Morning Tarah,” she said.

Tarah jumped and almost dropped her sword. “Morning,” she said, recovering quickly.

“I’ve been invited to Vanaheim for a sightseeing holiday with Prince Norbleen and his friends,” Daianya said. “He’s asked me to bring along any friends of mine as well.”

As though by magic, Norah appeared from behind one of the weapons racks. 

“So you’re taking Tarah, right?” she asked.

Tiree also made an appearance and smacked her.

“I was going to ask all of you,” Daianya said. “Assuming I get permission to go from the King, and assuming we all get permission to go from General Solveig.”

“We’ve been at peace for fifteen years, we’re all owed some time off, I can’t see why she should say no,” Tiree said as Tarah looked nervously at her feet. “Where on Vanaheim would we be going?”

Daianya checked the letter again. “A tour of the western fens, staying at the estate of Lord Smairken, father to Sir Kinndyr, who is one of Norbleen’s friends and will be joining us, the Falls of the Spritefolk – ”

“Oh! How romantic! They’re supposed to be so tall that rainbows form at the bottom of them!” Norah exclaimed. 

“I’m not going for romance,” Daianya said to her.

Unseen behind her, Tarah deflated slightly.

“I think it’s safe to say we’d love to come,” Tiree said. “All of us, if we can get permission. Will you be inviting your sisters as well?”

“Maybe Norbleen likes blue women,” Norah said, earning herself another smack.

Daianya looked at her in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“Norah’s just being an idiot, you know, like normal,” Tiree said. 

“I doubt Nal and Norbleen have much in common,” Daianya said. “I wasn’t planning on asking them, actually. I thought it might be fun for us to go as a group of friends. I love my sisters but we are very close… _very_ close… and it might be nice to have some time away with my friends.”

****

Frigga was standing in a place she didn’t recognise. It was dimly lit and reminded her of a museum or a trophy room. There were items on plinths set between pillars of stone. At the far wall sat a casket swirling with blue light. Off to the side sat a cube glowing with a similar blue light that made her want to back away from it. Out of the darkness behind it an enormous purple hand reached out and snatched it away. 

Frigga turned and froze at the scene before her. A Jotun man with black hair and red eyes stood in front of a flame with no fuel, holding what looked like a decorative sculpture of some kind. An Asgardian woman with black hair stood on one side, her sword at his throat, urging him to drop the sculpture in the flmaes. A middle-aged Asgardian Man wearing armour and missing an eye stood on his other side, holding a dagger out as though to threaten him to stop what he was doing.

“Is that a crown?” said a voice from behind her. “I thought it was a big eyebrow.”

Frigga glanced around and for a moment thought it was her brother, but while the man had the same build, same hair, and same cheeky smile, the features were all slightly different. She reached out with one hand but he vanished into smoke, still smiling until he vanished entirely.

She turned back and watched the scene in front of her. The middle-aged man was holding his dagger up, about to bring it down on the Jotun’s chest, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do it. Slowly, tears falling from his good eye, he lowered his hand. 

“I love you my son,” he said.

“Liar,” hissed a new voice. A Jotun woman was standing behind him, eyes blazing, teeth as thin and sharp as needles. She slashed at him with a blade of ice as the Jotun man dropped the crown into the fire and the black-haired Asgardian woman shrieked in fury. She slashed the Jotun’s neck clean across and he fell to the ground as the room began to burn all around them.

Frigga’s eyes snapped open. She forced herself to take a slow breath in and clear the dream from her mind. She’d had dreams like that since she was a child, filled with truths as yet untold. Half the reason she had fought to study magic had been to try and find an explanation for them.

She rose from the bed and poured herself a drink of water. The dream certainly meant something but she had no idea what. It wasn’t as though she ever dreamed real events exactly as they appeared, no, her dreams were metaphors and layers upon layers. The black-haired woman had not wanted the crown – was it a crown? – to go into the fire, but when Frigga had first looked upon the scene she would have sworn the Jotun man was being pressured to place it there by the very same woman. The one-eyed man had wanted to stop him but accepted that he could not, and who was the Jotun woman who hated him so badly? She’d looked like a monster with those teeth. 

Her teachers at the Academy had very quickly informed her that her dreams were not magical in nature. Instead they told her that she must have been blessed by the Norns. Frigga privately saw it as more of a curse. Did she even want to try and work out who everyone had been and what they had to do with the fire that engulfed everything around them?

She looked out of the window at the rising sun and sighed. They had arrived at the court last night and gone straight to their rooms. Today Frigga would be introduced to the court and she was not looking forward to it.

She put the dream out of her mind. Maybe one day it would all make sense to her, but for now there was nothing else to do but to start her day.

Lady Wearveil occupied a suit of very comfortable rooms within the palace entirely for free, a gift from the queen for her unceasing loyalty and friendship. Frigga had been allocated one of the bedrooms, with Amora being given the much smaller room just off hers as her lady companion. Frigga headed to the bathroom that they were to share intending to gain some relaxation time beneath the shower before the stress of the day landed upon her.

There was a servant waiting in the bathroom who gave her an attentive bow as she stepped inside. Frigga bit the inside of her lip in order to maintain a calm demeanour; she’d forgotten about the palace servants, who were numerous and ever-present. 

“I don’t need any assistance, thank you,” Frigga said to her and she bowed again and vanished.

“Me either,” said Amora from behind her. Frigga resisted the urge to sigh. Lady’s did not sigh when their plans were interrupted.

“Good morning,” Frigga said.

“Can I brush my teeth before you get ready? My mouth feels like carpet,” Amora asked.

“Yes of course,” Frigga said.

“You had a dream last night,” Amora said. “I heard you talking.”

“What did I say?” Frigga asked her.

“You’ve taken her heart,” Amora said, “You almost shouted it.”

“A lady doesn’t shout,” Frigga said absentmindedly as she picked up her own toothbrush.

“Well maybe you weren’t dreaming of a lady,” Amora said through her brush. “What did you dream of?”

“Fire,” Frigga said, “And death.”

“Anyone we know?” Amora asked.

“No,” Frigga said, thinking of the young man who looked so much like her brother. “No one we know right now.”

“I heard Vé Borson is at court right now,” Amora said. “Maybe he can introduce me to his father.”

“Are you still on that?” Frigga asked in disbelief. “You are not going to marry King Bor of Asgard, you are never even going to _meet_ King Bor of Asgard. He almost never comes to Vanaheim and you have no standing in the court of Asgard.”

“If I get close enough to one of his sons maybe they’ll introduce me,” Amora said.

“Not Vé Borson,” Frigga said. “Mother told me that he had a falling out with his father and that’s why he lives on Vanaheim.”

“Damn, any idea what happened?”

“He was engaged to a Vanir woman, a lady of high standing with powerful connections,” Frigga said. “Then he married a Vanir woman, only it wasn’t the one his father had picked out for him. There was a minor scandal and he’s lived here with his wife ever since.” 

Amora pulled a face. “Unfortunate. I’ll need another way forwards then.”

“Amora, you are very beautiful – ”

“Thank you”

“ – and intelligent, witty and ambitious. You don’t need to marry a King to prosper, you could do it blindfolded,” Frigga said.

“I know,” Amora said. “But that would take centuries of hard work. I want someone else to do the hard work and then marry me.”

Frigga sighed and waited until Amora was finished before shutting the door behind her and finally turning on the shower. Amora always talked about using men for their money, but Frigga doubted she would ever really do it. There was so much more to life, and any woman with standards wouldn’t be so… calculating.

****

An hour later, Sar Frigga Folencedottir, eldest child and only daughter of the late Lord Folence, and source of all her mother’s hopes and dreams, stepped out into the sunshine and looked out over the lawns that made up the majority of the Vanir palace’s gardens.

Her mother had everything planned for her introduction to the court that night and, had she won the battle of wits that morning, would have kept Frigga indoors until then to maintain the air of mystery surrounding her arrival. Luckily Haewkyr had intervened and mentioned that _he_ was meeting Prince Norbleen on the lawns that morning before going for a ride into the city, and surely Frigga ought to join their small, intimate, group of friends.

Haewkyr gave her a grin that made her think of the young man from her dream and headed out into across the grass.

Frigga followed and he led her up to a group of men lounging about as though they had nothing else to do.

Chances are they didn’t. A Lord had a lot of work to do to maintain his estates, but a Lord’s _son_ , once his lessons were completed, was just a young man with a lot of time on his hands.

“Your Grace,” Haewkyr called out in greeting. “I’ve come to present my sister, Sar Frigga.”

Norbleen looked up at Haewkyr with a grin before his eyes slid over to where Frigga stood. She sank into a perfect curtsey.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sar Frigga,” he said. “Your brother has mentioned you at great length.”

“I’m pleased to meet your Grace,” Frigga said.

Norbleen shrugged. “Call me Norbleen, everyone else here does, except, apparently Haewkyr when he’s introducing someone, what was _that_?”

“Good manners,” Haewkyr said, plopping down onto the grass beside Norbleen. “You ought to try them out sometime.”

“Eh, seems like effort,” Norbleen said jokingly. “Will you sit with us, Frigga, or is that skirt too big to let you fold it?”

Frigga sank to her knees, skirt spreading out gracefully around her. To her right, Sir Kinndyr’s mouth fell open slightly.

“H…h…hi,” he managed.

Frigga gave him a polite nod. “Hi,” she repeated back to him, somewhat awkwardly.

“Kinndyr you peacock,” Haewkyr said chuckling. “She’s just my sister, no need to stare.”

Sir Kinndyr blushed like a sunset. Frigga shot her brother a look. Haewkyr just grinned.

“Frigg’s just finished her magic studies at the Academy. She’s an accomplished witch,” Haewkyr said. “Show us, Sister, turn Kinndyr into a frog.”

“That’s not what magic is for,” Frigga said, uncomfortably aware that she sounded very prim and proper.

“No, that’s not what the old people say it’s for. You can do it though, can’t you?” Haewkyr asked her.

Frigga sighed and waved a hand. Sir Kinndyr turned into a frog. Norbleen burst out laughing as Kinndyr croaked in protest. Frigga waved her hand again and he appeared as a man again.

“I didn’t really change you,” she said. “It was an illusion of change.”

“A good illusion, I thought I was an actual frog,” Kinndyr said. 

“And a very good frog you made too,” said one of the other men. He looked across at Frigga. “I’m Unotis Grehmanson. My father is a baron for the far west and sent me here to learn about court life.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Frigga said.

“So have you come to join the court for good or are you just visiting?” Unotis asked her.

Frigga paused. She knew her mother’s answer, and she knew her own. What she didn’t know was the truth.

“I’m here for the foreseeable future,” she said as a compromise.

Across the lawn she spotted a blond figure. Amora was standing in the shade of the garden wall, her back pressed against it as she held her breasts out seductively at the man talking to her. Frigga didn’t know who he was but he had silver hair.

“That flirt,” Frigga whispered.

“I’m sorry?” Norbleen asked her.

“Nothing, your Gr – I mean Norbleen. I just saw someone I know but she’s busy,” Frigga said.

“Have you heard from the Princess yet?” Haewkyr asked Norbleen, distracting them from Frigga for the moment.

“Not yet, she’ll have to get permission from King Bor so I’m not expecting an answer straight away,” Norbleen said. “Hopefully he’ll say yes, I think we’ll have more fun with more people. Frigga, did your brother tell you of our plans?”

“He mentioned them, yes,” Frigga said.

“Do you want to come too?” Norbleen asked her.

Behind him, Haewkyr began to nod.

“I’d love to,” Frigga said. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Well, at least Mother would be pleased.


	11. Breaches of Security

Hela stood over the palace intruder and smiled the smile of someone who knows that, very shortly, she would be ending another life.

It was all she ever wanted in life, and peacetime was like being fed single mouthfuls when once she’d gorged herself. Hela felt almost numb at times from the lack of death around her, but Odin had made it clear that randomly killing people just because you could was not something he approved of. After so long without a kill, Hela finally felt as though she was coming back to life.

Ironic really

“Who are you?” she asked, looking down at him.

He did not respond, which she had been expecting. Hela’s smile widened and she placed a hand on his shoulder; time to try out her latest discovery, made while practicing on chickens and other animals around the palace.

“Who. Are. You?” She repeated slowly, letting her power seep through her.

His flesh beneath her hand began to necrotise, dying cell by cell at her command. The man groaned as the feeling slowly disappeared from his shoulder in a growing black stain.

“I’m just a thief!” he blurted out. “I wasn’t going to hurt anyone!”

“But you still chose to climb into my sister’s bedroom,” Hela said, “A royal princess. Any invasion of such a private area is to be met with harsh judgement… but…” She waited for him to look at her, faint hope in his eyes. “If you were to tell me what it was you came for then I could arrange mercy,” Hela finished. 

He whimpered under her hand. Before the numbness that accompanied the death of his cells first there was the agony of them dying, and the rot was slowly creeping closer and closer to his neck.

“There was a contract,” he said. “Any thief who brings the goods gets the payment.”

Hela leaned in closer, eyes flashing with interest. “A contract for what?” she asked.

****

Loki and Odin stood in the weapons’ vault and scanned the room thoughtfully. 

“I strengthened the spells on the door,” Odin said, “And the ones across the ceiling. The floor is a large drop down to the Tombs of the Fallen, so I can’t see anyone coming up that way.”

“I can,” Loki said. “Get the right climbing equipment, go down into the cellars, dig through to the Tombs, start climbing upwards.”

“Hmm…” Odin said. “I suppose you’re right, I’ll make a start on those spells as well, I just wish I knew what they were after so that we could take more caution. There are so many things in here that are valuable.”

Loki looked over the various weapons and other powerful artefacts on plinths around the room. His gaze lingered on the Eternal Flame for a moment, because he reached into his pocket and thoughtfully pulled out an apple core.

“No,” Odin said, spotting him.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered,” Loki said, holding it over the flame.

“The Eternal Flame is a powerful and majestic artefact that is not to be used to try and regrow your apple,” Odin said.

“Are there any remnants of Idunn’s apples left around?” Loki asked, still holding the core over the flames. “What if it works? What if we can bring back the most powerful regeneration method we have ever had?”

Odin sighed heavily. “If you receive some kind of divine punishment from Yggdrasil itself then I shan’t even try to save you,” he said.

Loki grinned and dropped the core into the flames. “By the Eternal Flame, you are reborn!” he intoned grandly.

There was the definite smell of cooking apple in the air.

Loki looked into the flame in puzzlement, cursed and began trying to pull out the apple core. Odin watched him in amusement as he teased the apple to the edge and managed to pick it up.

“Ta dah!” he said cheerfully, holding a reformed, but extremely charred, apple.

“Now eat it,” Odin challenged.

Loki took a bite and began chewing awkwardly on the flesh.

“Mmm… regenerated,” he said, trying not to pull a face.

Odin started laughing properly just as King Bor entered the room and the pendant on Odin’s cloak lit up and chimed loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Bor said, “And what is _he_ doing here? I don’t want anyone but the two of us having access to the vault until we find a way to stop the thieves permanently, and what is that chiming sound?”

“That’s the alarm,” Odin said. “I changed the spells to alert the guards, and myself, if anyone passes the threshold, even us.”

Bor grunted in approval. “Turn it off, you can see it’s me,” he said.

Odin complied as Loki stubbornly took another bite of his charred apple.

“I mean it about other people, get out Trickster,” Bor said.

Loki shrugged. “I was very helpfully testing your new security systems for weaknesses, but if you are _sure,”_ he said.

Bor grunted and looked at Odin, who nodded. “He’s been identifying the less common ways in which the vault might be accessed,” Odin said.

Bor rolled his eyes. “Fine, but once the new changes are in place I don’t want anyone going in here who isn’t you or me,” he said. 

“Better rob the place now then,” Loki said.

“Are you ever going to bow to me?” Bor asked him.

Loki made a show of thinking about it. “Nah,” he said. “Maybe a slight incline of the head if you ever manage to do something I respect.”

Bor’s hand curled into a fist, but Odin stepped between them. “The new changes to the door and ceiling are done,” he said quickly, heading off his father’s anger, “But Loki pointed out that the floor is still vulnerable so I was going to work on that next.”

“Hmph,” Bor said, turning away from where Loki was waving at him cheerfully.

“Will you accept an invitation to visit my castle, King?” Loki asked.

“No,” Bor snapped.

“Oh good, you’re hear,” said Hela, entering the room as Odin’s chime went off again.

He silenced it as Bor looked up at her. “Did he talk?” he asked.

Hela grinned. “He did. There’s a contract awarding a lot of money to anyone who brings the Tesseract to the Thieves Guild of Paraxela. No one knows who engaged them, but if we want to find out we’ll have to head over there. It’s a two week journey from here, I would like to leave immediately.”

Bor turned to look at where the tesseract sat on its plinth. “I have to say I did suspect,” he said, “It’s a powerful object and it’s well known that we have it.”

“Perhaps we should hide it like we did with the Aether,” Odin suggested. “We’re not using it, we might as well put it somewhere we can get to it if we need but isn’t so well known.”

“I’ll do it,” Loki volunteered, “I know a lot of places to hide things.”

“No,” Bor said. “Odin, you think of somewhere, until then we increase the security and make that contract disappear one way or another.”

“So I can go?” Hela asked.

Bor sniffed. “No. I know about the Thieves Guild of Paraxela, they are vast in number and more than capable of retaliation if this is handled wrong. I will send General Hymir and some of his men. He’s got the diplomatic skills required to tease out the information we need without causing it to backfire on the realm.”

Hela looked disappointed; Odin looked intrigued; Loki looked thoughtful.

“Now, Son,” Bor said, shifting topics, “Daianya has come to me with an interesting request. It seems Prince Norbleen has invited her to take a holiday with him on Vanaheim to see some of the sights. Did you know those two were corresponding?”

“I had no idea,” Odin said, puzzled. “I thought that things were… stagnant in that area?”

“Me too, maybe they got on with it on their own?” Bor said.

“Does this mean she might marry him?” Hela asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Bor shrugged. “Nothing’s been arranged,” he said, “And nothing will be in the short term, but if they want to get to know one another then I don’t plan to stop them. Odin, I think it’s time Asgard visited Vanaheim again for a diplomatic visit. I want you to go and meet Daianya at the end of her holiday, stay a few days for appearances sake, and while you’re at it, see how well she likes Norbleen. He’s a brave warrior by all accounts, intelligent, they say charming too. Let me know how it goes.”

Odin glanced from Bor to Hela lightning fast. “Of course, Father, shall I take Hela with me? She’s never seen Vanaheim.”

“No, I want Hela to shadow me while you’re gone. She’s still got a lot to learn about realm management,” Bor said.

Hela scowled at that, but straightened her face before Bor could look at her.

“Anima then?” Odin suggested.

Bor shrugged. “If you like.”

The three of them walked out of the vault, lost in their conversation. They had just reached the outer door when Loki yelled at them from behind. “I’ll just lock up then, shall I?”

Embarrassed, Odin hurried back and fixed the locking spell on the door.

“You aren’t taking Nal as well?” Loki asked him.

Odin waved him away. “I can’t take everyone,” he said.

****

Daianya walked through the training yards and into the barracks beyond. The barracks consisted of multiple long buildings filled with bedrooms, each sleeping six, with small wash rooms and communal areas between them. Off to one side were the enormous dining hall and the bathhouse, where proper washing could be done after training, and on the other side was a small collection of modest but comfortable houses, in which lived the Generals and Commanders of the Army and the Valkyrie. Daianya headed to General Solveig’s house and knocked on the door.

The General opened it herself. She was dressed down as it was almost dinner time and her work was done for the day. She smiled at Daianya and stepped back.

“I hope I’m not intruding, General,” Daianya said stepping inside the threshold and trying not to gawk at her surroundings. She’d never been inside the General’s home before, most Valkyrie hadn’t, and she didn’t want Solveig to think she was being nosy.

“Not at all, your Grace, I was just trying to draft up some more recruitment posters for the Valkyrie. Enlistments are down for the third year in a row,” General Solveig said.

“Do you know why?” Daianya asked.

“Oh yes. The True Men’s Alliance have been hard at work making the Valkyrie sound as unappealing as possible. Strong women scare them, and in turn they’ve been scaring others,” Solveig said. “But that’s my burden to bare, what brings you to my door?” she asked.

“I received an invitation to visit Vanaheim for a few weeks,” she said. “The King has approved it, but the invitation is also extended to my friends, and I was wondering whether they might have leave to go too.”

General Solveig nodded thoughtfully. “Your friends consisting of Norah the Squealer, Tiree the Patient, Meydee the Quiet and Tarah the Pegasus-whisperer?” she asked.

Daianya struggled not to smile at the extremely accurate descriptions of her friends. “That would be the friends I was thinking of,” she said.

Solveig nodded. “We are currently enjoying a wonderful era of peace,” she said, “And none of those women have had leave since the Battle of the Convergence, so I have no objection. Have them fill out the leave forms with the dates on them and I will sign them tomorrow.”

Daianya grinned. “Thank you General,” she said.

Solveig gave her a thoughtful look. “Do you intend to come back from this holiday with the same status you left for it?” she asked her.

“Yes,” Daianya said quickly, “Very much so. I know he’s a Prince and I’m a Princess but we are just friends and intend to remain that way.”

Solveig nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. I don’t want to lose Daianya the Kursed-Killer just yet.”

Daianya blushed bright red as she stepped out of Solveig’s house and began her walk across the yard to the barracks sleeping quarters.

She stepped inside the building her friends slept in and headed to their most frequently used communal area. Tarah and Meydee were there and looked up as she walked in.

“We’re going to Vanaheim,” Daianya said.

“Yay!” screamed Norah from behind her, making her jump in fright.

“Fill in the leave forms tomorrow and then work out what you want to pack,” Daianya continued, looking at Norah with a slightly panicked expression.

“I’m not sure if I should go,” Tarah said. “My sword work is a little rusty; I should get in more practice.”

Norah gave a groan that didn’t border on the dramatic because it shot right over it and invaded the other side. She flung herself down over a couch and threw her arm over her eyes. “You can do that when you get back!” she said. “You have to come to Vanaheim! It’s a whole other realm, anything could happen!”

Daianya ignored Norah and sat down next to Tarah. “If you’re worried about your sword work we can practice while we’re there,” she said, “We’re warriors, they must expect that we carry weapons with us. I’ll spar with you whenever we have a free half hour.”

Tarah looked up at her, their faces were less than a foot apart. “Um, okay,” she said.

Daianya smiled. “Great! I’ll write to Norbleen and let him know we’re coming. We leave in a few days.”

Tarah watched her go, the smile slowly falling from her face.

“Stop being so down,” Norah said. “She wants you to go. She wants to spar with you. Alone. You just have to wait for your moment and then go for it.”

“I’m not doing anything until I know Norbleen isn’t in the picture,” Tarah said. “I won’t make a fool of myself like that.”

“Sometimes you have to risk making a fool of yourself if you want something badly enough,” Meydee said softly.

“I’m going to dinner,” Tarah said, getting up and leaving the room with a stomp in her step.

“It’s going to be a beautiful wedding,” Norah said wistfully.

****

Tyr was crossing the training yard on his way back home when he heard something off to his left; voices talking about the True Men’s Alliance. He paused for a moment and then detoured to follow the sound.

To his surprise he discovered a small group of warriors speaking with none other than Lord Elbin, leader of the True Men’s Alliance himself. Tyr paused in shock and tried to think of something witty or impressive to say to introduce himself.

“They take up valuable training time in the yard,” one of the warriors grumbled. 

“They eat alongside us instead of afterwards,” said another.

“Patience, my friends, we know there is a correct order to things, but if you speak up too soon you will find yourselves thrown from the army like your fellow brothers of the cause,” Lord Elbin said calmly.

He was a tall man with brown hair and a high forehead set over blue eyes and a straight nose. His lips were thin but his smile was filled with confidence and easy charm. 

“Hey! Who’s that?” one of the warriors said and Tyr jumped as he realised he’s been discovered. “It’s Hymir’s brat!”

Try scowled deeply and stepped out of the shadows, head held high and sword ready. “I’m not a brat,” he said. “I’m a warrior in training just like every other boy my age around here.”

“Hello, son of Hymir,” Lord Elbin said smoothly. “I apologise for my friend’s outburst, he is currently having to hide his beliefs simply to remain in the army. I’m sure you can respect how valued a position an army warrior is, and it’s simply not fair to remove someone for their beliefs, don’t you agree?”

Tyr sheathed his sword. “You’re right about the Valkyrie,” he said to Lord Elbin, who raised an eyebrow in interest. “They do take up too much of the training yard. I was made to train with them once and it was a complete waste of time.”

He did not say that was because they kept getting better while he stayed the same until the day came when they all beat him, he felt that Lord Elbin didn’t need to know about that.

“I see you and I are of the same mind,” Lord Elbin said, smiling.

“I’ve seen your speeches,” Tyr said. “I have to hide the recordings from my father, but I’ve seen all the recent ones.”

“I had no idea, welcome, brother, to our cause,” Lord Elbin said, “And a just and true one it is too. I take it this means these fine men’s secret is safe with you?”

Tyr gave a hard stare to the one who called him a brat. “Out of respect for you, Lord Elbin, yes it is,” he said.

Lord Elbin smiled. “I’m so glad to hear it. I hope to see you at one of our meetings one day.”

“My father keeps a close eye on me, but if I can slip away one day I will,” Tyr promised.

Lord Elbin bowed his head slightly and stepped away. “I must go now, there are others I must speak with, stay hidden, my brothers, until there are enough of us to go public.”

Tyr headed back to his home, resisting the urge to dance with glee. Lord Elbin had spoken to him, had called him brother, never in his life had Tyr expected that to happen.

He pushed open the door and called out. “Father?”

“Upstairs!” General Hymir called back. 

Tyr headed up to his father’s bedroom, where the General was packing a bag.

“I’ve been given orders,” he said. “I’m to go and investigate the source of the theft attempts on the palace. I’ll be gone for a about a month.”

Tyr tried not to let his sigh show. “So I’ll be going to stay with Grandmother?” he asked.

General Hymir looked at him thoughtfully. “You are almost sixteen, I think you can manage to stay here alone without burning the house down,” he said, “And if I’m wrong, Commander Lomax is right next door. Make sure you get to your training on time and you can eat your meals in the dining hall with the other trainees.”

Tyr brightened up considerably. “Thank you, Father. I’ll be good.”

General Hymir nodded. “I don’t doubt it. I’m leaving tomorrow, so anything you want to ask or tell me before I go has to be said tonight.”

Tyr shook his head. “I’ve got no news,” he said. “Just take care out there.”

“I always do,” General Hymir said.


	12. Daughters and Their Parents

Anima was packing a backpack when Odin, accompanied by Loki, knocked on her door.

“Going camping?” Odin asked.

“Hiking,” Anima said, “As a part of my investigations into the magical nature of Asgard’s origins.”

“Oh,” Odin said, “You’re still chasing that?”

“I haven’t caught the answer yet,” Anima said.

“Good reasoning,” Loki said. “Do you want a partner?”

“You want to go hiking with me?” Anima asked him.

“No. I _want_ to teleport to wherever you are planning to go, but I’ll go hiking if you really insist,” Loki said.

Anima’s eyes flickered quickly to Odin and back again. “I insist,” she said. “I’ve heard hiking is fun and I want to try it.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly but he didn’t say anything as Odin spoke. 

“Your sister is heading to Vanaheim for a holiday with Prince Norbleen; Father has asked me to meet her there for a few days at the end of her travels and I wanted to know if you would like to come? I know you’ve never been to Vanaheim before.”

Anima very deliberately did not look at Loki, who was doing a marvellous job of appearing distracted by the books on Anima’s bookshelf.

“I’d love to go, Father, thank you,” Anima said. “Will Nal be coming?”

Odin hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “We can’t have everyone going to Vanaheim at once, it would be asking too much of them to host us.”

Loki rolled his eyes as Anima’s smile became a little sadder. “I’m sure you’ll take her next time,” she said.

Odin nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I think she’s working on a new garden anyway, I’d hate to drag her away.”

“Makes sense,” Anima said, although her tone was less than agreeable.

Odin backed away awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to plan your hike. You’ll be back before we leave?”

“Oh yes, this won’t take too long,” Anima said.

Odin stepped out on to the landing and watched as the door closed behind him without anyone touching it. He shifted uncomfortably on the spot before turning to leave. He hadn’t meant to leave Nal out exactly, he’d wanted to take Hela to show her what a diplomatic visit looked like, when Bor had refused he’d just named the next daughter to come into his head. It wasn’t _purposeful_.

Maybe he should go and talk to Nal, arrange something that just the two of them could do together? Truly, he hadn’t meant it.

****

“He doesn’t mean it,” Anima said sadly. “No one means it, but they forget her all the time. The King barely remembers she exists, Father is always busy, and always thinks of one of us others first. Grandmother was the only one who ever put Nal first, and she’s long gone now.”

“I think of her,” Loki said. “I think she’s going to be something incredible one day.”

“I think she’s incredible now,” Anima said. “If it were me getting forgotten and looked over I think I’d have burnt down the palace by now, or maybe just a tower. I’d be so angry I’d shout and _make_ them look at me. She just gets on with her gardens and pretends it doesn’t hurt.”

“So where are you going?” Loki said, changing the subject to something more cheerful.

“The Well of Mimir,” Anima said.

“I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

“See, I knew people wouldn’t like the idea, that’s why I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” Anima said. 

“Visiting the Well is not for the faint of heart,” Loki said. “The Waters of Sight will destroy your mind if you can’t stay strong.”

“I don’t intend to swim in the waters,” Anima said. “But the Well is at the heart of Asgard, buried beneath the soil, halfway between the surface and the underside. I want to see where the two meet because one repels magic so violently you could almost weaponise it and the other is completely normal. I want to see where they meet, and that means going underground.”

“And you intend to hike down there?” Loki asked.

“It’s generally not recommended to teleport directly into the location of the Well,” Anima said. “The magic down there is powerful and can cause a whole range of unwanted side-effects.”

“Even to you?” Loki asked.

Anima shrugged. “Maybe, probably not, but I don’t see why I should risk it when I can just walk.”

“I’m definitely coming with you,” Loki said, “Just in case you run into trouble that requires a brave and true Uncle to get you out of.”

“As you like,” Anima said.

****

Frigga’s introduction to the Vanir court went off without a hitch. She had accompanied her mother and brother down to the Grate Hall dressed in pale blue and gold. Within minutes of her arrival the queen had called her closer in order to be properly introduced, thus bringing her to the attention of the rest of the court. Man of all ages and standing had come to greet her, and by the end of the night she was exhausted from being on her best behaviour.

It was now two days later and Frigga was finally able to find some free time to have a bit of fun.

She dressed in her toughest clothing and headed down to the weapon’s training area down past the gardens. She carried her sword – a secret purchase some years previously – and was hoping to run through the training exercises. 

There were some young men there when she arrived. Frigga vaguely recognised them as minor nobles of the court. They saw her arrive and stopped to watch. Undaunted, Frigga began her warm-up exercises, going through the stances one by one, focussing on calling up her magic and holding it until it was the right moment.

“Nice moves,” said one of the men. Frigga gave him a nod of acknowledgement but didn’t say anything as she kept going through the steps.

“Do you want to spar?” asked another one.

Frigga finished her exercise and turned to face him. “Just practicing steps or actual combat?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Combat suits me,” he said as his friends started chuckling.

She sized him up. “Alright, rules?”

“No lasting injuries?” he suggested. The chuckling continued. “And when I win I get a kiss.”

Frigga raised an eyebrow. “And when I do you have to toast my skill at the next feast,” she said. “No other rules? None at all?”

“Hit me with whatever you’ve got,” the man said as the chuckles increased, but the man gave her a bow of acceptance and took up a waiting stance. Frigga did likewise and sized him up. They circled one another as the man’s friends looked on with grins on their faces.

Frigga feinted with her sword to one side, and created an illusion that made her look as though she was feinting to the other. The man followed her illusion and she darted in and jabbed him lightly in the ribs. He turned in confusion but her illusion was already making him see double. She slipped around behind him, flanking him with herself as he whirled in confusion.

“You’re cheating!” he said.

“You said no other rules,” Frigga said. 

“Listen, woman,” he snapped. Frigga hit him on the back of the knees and he landed in the dirt.

“How do you expect to stay alive in battle if you can’t fight against magic?” Frigga asked him.

He rose and stormed off. His friends went with him, one of them turned and gave her a filthy look as he left.

Frigga shook her head and went back to her exercises. Honestly, the amount of men who couldn’t handle a woman with a sword was equal parts frustrating and embarrassing.

****

“You are embarrassing!” Lady Wearveil snapped. 

They were alone in Frigga’s room. Lady Wearveil had stormed in without knocking, practically a cardinal sin. 

“What are you talking about?” Frigga asked, already suspecting the answer.

“You humiliated Lord Arcren’s son!” Lady Wearveil said.

“Lord Arcren’s son shouldn’t assume he can win a fight against an unknown opponent,” Frigga retorted.

“Where is the sword?” Lady Wearveil asked.

Frigga shook her head. “The sword is mine, I bought it, I own it, I am an adult – ”

“You are a fool!” Lady Wearveil snapped. “I just spent half my morning smoothing things over.”

“Why?” Frigga asked. “He’s a minor lord’s son; what problem could this possibly cause?”

“Lord Arcren is friends with Lord Geldyr, who owns the estate next to your brother’s. Lord Geldyr has been wanting to acquire your brother’s estate for centuries, and would absolutely use this insult to the son of her _dearest friend_ to demand retribution in the form of an honour battle. He will almost certainly engage the best champion on Vanaheim and Haewkyr will be forced to fight him. Frigga! Everything and everyone is connected here at court. You can’t go around humiliating young men. They are the future leaders of our realm and you don’t want them holding grudges!”

Frigga shook her head in disbelief. “All this fuss over a swordfight,” she said. “Why should I have to hide who I am because they can’t handle it?”

“He said you used magic,” Lady Wearveil said.

“Lots of people have magic, and he never said I couldn’t use it, I asked him what rules he wanted!” Frigga protested.

“Excuses!” Lady Wearveil snapped. “You are just like your father, running around without a thought for the consequences of your actions!”

“Father was a good man,” Frigga said.

“He was a fool. A thoughtless, useless fool who trusted people too much and never bothered to put his family first,” Lady Wearveil snapped. “He had magic too and did it save him? Did it bring him prosperity? No. You’re spoilt, Frigga, you know nothing about hard work and navigating a world filled with people who need to be placated if you want to get ahead. How could you have forgotten what it was like?”

Frigga blinked the tears out of her eyes. “I haven’t forgotten,” she said. “I’ve never forgotten.”

“You keep acting like it,” Lady Wearveil said. “You keep acting like it can’t happen again. Sleeping on the stone floor because I had to sell the furniture; eating bugs that I dug up from the garden because all the vegetables were seized to be sold to pay our debts; Lord Finley.”

Frigga flinched.

“I know he beat you for every little transgression and I had to let him because he’s the only reason we didn’t starve,” Lady Wearveil said. “I had to call that man husband and master. I had to let him send Haewkyr away to be raised by his brother! But I used the little power my marriage to him gave me to build us up again. I worked hard, every minute of every day, without _magic_ or showing off! The day I divorced him was the happiest day of my life. I would like to replace that memory with one of my daughter’s wedding day. I would like to know that you are safe and secure and never need to worry about your children starving because the man your mother picked for you was a fool.”

Frigga flinched. “That’s your life,” she said.

“And it could easily be yours if you aren’t careful. Your father was a fool who almost led us to ruin. Everything I’ve done since has been for your benefit, to keep you safe and secure so that you never have to go through that again, and you repay me by trying as hard as you can to throw it all away!” Lady Wearveil said.

Frigga felt the tears on her face; by contrast her mother’s expression was cold and hard.

“I’m not you, Mother,” Frigga said, her voice trembling. “I can’t be who you want me to be.”

“Stop crying. A Lady doesn’t cry,’ Lady Wearveil said.

“Then I don’t want to be a lady,” Frigga said.

Lady Wearveil turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Frigga to try and hold back her tears.

She was still wiping her eyes and cursing her inability to stop crying when Amora entered the room.

“Frigga? What’s wrong?” she asked, coming over.

“Mother and I had a disagreement,” Frigga said. “I will be alright. Is that a new gold chain?”

“Do you like it? Sir Frindel gave it to me,” Amora said.

“I thought you were seeking an old husband,” Frigga said, hoping to get her mind onto something other than her mother. 

“I am, but I am also enjoying young attention,” Amora said, smiling. “Old men can’t dance.”

“You need to be careful,” Frigga said. “Too much attention can backfire and ruin your reputation.”

“You sound like your mother,” Amora said.

Frigga flinched and turned away.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you,” Amora said.

“I’m used to it,” Frigga said bitterly. “Every time my mother speaks of my father I am insulted. It seems she forgets that I am half of him, and how she tells it he had nothing in him worth respecting.”

“The only thing my mother ever said about my father was that he had a big – ” Amora began but Frigga cut her off.

“She acts like I need to obey all her rules to avoid desperate ruin, but her rules are so proper and strict! No one can live like that, surely?”

“You really don’t understand, do you?” Amora said. “Your mother has this entire court wrapped around her fingers, and that’s not by rebelling against the ‘rules’, as you call them. She’s charmed the men, flattered the women, and then does it in reverse. Watch her in the Feast Hall sometime and you will see how she works the room. She’s a powerful women; I admire her.”

Frigga glared at her. “You’re supposed to be my friend,” she said.

“I am,” Amora said. “And because I am your friend I am telling you that there are different types of power in the world and your mother is a master at one of them. You should pay less attention to the rules for their own sake and watch how she applies them. I have, which is why this gold chain is not the only gift I received today.”

“You need to be careful,” Frigga said. “The reputation of a commoner is barely respected and far easier to lose.”

“A harsh truth, but fair. But do you understand that the only reason you have the luxury of rebelling against all those rules you hate is because you have the standing to do so,” Amora said. “Face it, you were raised from birth to be a lady and a lady you will be. You might as well try to learn what your mother is trying to teach you, because being a shield maiden is straight folly.”

“Just leave me alone,” Frigga said. “Go and enjoy your trinkets, you utter flirt.”


	13. Plans for Joy and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. I got sick over the weekend (not corona, I feel like in this day and age I must clarify). Just a horrible headache that knocked me out for a few days.
> 
> I'll try not to leave it so long between chapters again.

Anima finished her packing and stopped for a moment.

_Nal?_

_Yes?_

_Father asked me to go to Vanaheim with him to meet Daianya after her holiday. He said he couldn’t take both of us. Did you want to go instead? I don’t need to see Vanaheim and I can tell him I’m too busy and to take you instead._

There was silence for a moment, then Nal answered. 

_No, thank you. I’ve got a lot to do here, and if Father wanted to invite me he would have found a way._

_I’m sorry,_ Anima thought.

_Don’t be. You aren’t responsible for what Father choses to do, or not do. None of us get much time with him anyway, take what you can get and enjoy it._

Anima leaned against the wall and pulled a face. _You don’t always have to be so nice about things,_ she thought.

 _What would you have me do?_ Nal asked, her thoughts tinged with a trace of amusement.

 _I don’t know, hit something?_ Anima thought.

 _Ani, if I hit something the shockwave would destroy every living thing on Asgard,_ Nal thought.

Even though their connection was entirely mental, Anima still felt the chill enter her bones. 

What is she? Anima though to herself as she shook away the cold and picked up her backpack.

 _I don’t suppose you want to come hiking with me and Uncle Loki?_ she offered instead.

This time she definitely felt humour in her sister’s thoughts. _I may be a huge fan of dirt, but unless you discover a whole new ecosystem down there I have no desire to enter a cave of any kind ever again,_ Nal thought, _Have fun._

****

“Are you alright?” Scyth asked, “You look a little spacey.”

Nal smiled at him. “I’m fine, my sister and I were just having a conversation.”

“Using magic?” Scyth asked.

“Something like that,” Nal said. 

“I’ve not had a lot of experience with magic; does it tickle when someone uses it to speak inside you head?” he asked.

“No,” Nal said. “In the case of my sisters and me it feels like there’s a space just for them and when they speak it grows warmer.”

“Huh,” Scyth said, “Maybe I can try it one day. I’ve heard you can buy spells to speak to other people with.”

“Attached to crystals, but they don’t put the thoughts into your head,” Nal said. “Anima knows the details of how they work, but I do know _that_.”

“Oh,” Scyth said, sounding disappointed. “Here, I’ve finished this bit; I’ll get another bag of stones.”

He walked off across the mixture of lawn and overturned ground. The area that was destined to be a scented garden was currently a minor demolition zone with what Nal had started doing to it.

She was hammering the next line of stones into the ground when the sound of footstepds made her look up. For a moment she foolishly thought it might be Odin, coming to explain why she was always the last daughter to come to his mind, but instead it was Loki who sprawled on the ground beside her without a care for the dirt that rubbed into the seat of his pants.

“I heard a rumour that Lord Elbin was back at the palace,” he said.

“I’m well, Loki, and yourself?” Nal said, turning back to her planning.

“Apparently Tifer Koblowsson and Myia Catrensdottir are getting married, and Lord Koblow is a personal friend of the idiot,” Loki continued. “The wedding would be the perfect time to humiliate him, but alas I find myself promised to another. Anima leaves on her journey to the Well of Mimir just before the wedding starts.”

“Too bad,” Nal said distantly.

Loki looked across at her. “Lord Koblow is also a very powerful man. Powerful enough that the King will be attending the wedding, which means any remaining members of the royal family will also be expected to make an appearance.”

Nal paused at her digging. “Oh damn,” she said, pulling a face of disgust, “That’s just Hela and me then.”

“Soooooo… would you like to come on a hike with Anima and me?” Loki asked her. “Maybe there’ll be some plants down there you’ve never seen before? Some kind of prophesy plant that tells you your future if you eat it maybe?”

“Bring them back for me,” Nal said. “I’ll go to the damn wedding.”

Loki sat up straighter. “Are you sure? We could have such fun together,” he said.

“More fun than watching Hela at a wedding?” Nal asked him, finally looking up, red eyes on green.

“I suppose that would be amusing,” Loki conceded. “I just wanted you to know that you were welcome to come. We leave in a few hours.”

“Anima already invited me, and I already turned her down,” Nal said.

“But that was before you knew about the wedding,” Loki pointed out.

“My answer is the same,” Nal said, glancing up and seeing Scyth coming back with a bag of stones over his shoulder.

Loki saw what she was looking at and his eyes narrowed. “How’s lawn-boy?” he asked.

“Scyth is well, thank you,” Nal said, a little coldly. “I’ll be sure to tell him you asked after him.”

“We could go back to my castle after the hike?” Loki offered. “You and I can have dinner, as promised.”

“With Anima,” Nal said.

“Well, it would be rude to kick her out,” Loki started. Nal looked up at him again. This time when their eyes met there was a feeling in the air, something unspoken, a secret not yet told, something almost scary. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” Loki said softly.

“You told me that a Jotun woman always knows what she wants,” Nal shot back.

“Not this,” Loki said.

“Then go take a hike,” Nal said, “If I scare you that much.”

For a second Loki’s hand moved as though he would reach out to take hers, but he stopped himself with a jerk.

“You’re not the one I’m afraid of,” he said, rising and walked away.

“Coward,” Nal called out without turning around. 

“Was that Lord Loki?” Scyth asked, reaching her and setting the bag of stones down on the ground.

“It was, he asked after your health,” Nal said.

“Why? What’s he going to do about it?” Scyth asked warily.

“Nothing,” Nal said. “He never does anything about anything.”

****

Amora had three new necklaces that evening, all of which had been given to her by young men from the court. She also had new diamond earrings, a gift from an older Lord, Lord Cheratyr.

“He’s married,” Frigga hissed at her when Amora told her who it was.

“I know, and to such an old and wrinkly thing as well,” Amora said. “Oh stop looking so scandalised, it’s just a little flirting by the flower garden, I wouldn’t actually do anything with him, I have too many plans for that.”

“Still hoping to snare an old widower?” Frigga asked, somewhat coldly.

“The richest,” Amora said with no trace of shame. “I heard, _via_ Lord Cheratyr, that Crown Prince Odin of Asgard will be visiting Vanaheim in about a month. Apparently Prince Vé is delaying his return to his wife’s estate in order to see him.”

“He’s not that old,” Frigga said. “If you actually manage to convince him to marry you you’ll be middle-aged before he even grows old, and Asgardian royalty are known for living quite long lives.”

“I don’t want _Odin_ ,” Amora said. “As you say, he’s too young. But if I can convince him to take me back to Asgard then, well, it’s only a short step to King Bor, and from what I’ve heard he likes pretty young maidens so there’s no way he won’t pay me any attention.”

“Paying someone attention is not the same thing as marrying them,” Frigga said. “You have to do more than attract him, you have to catch him.”

“Do you really doubt me?” Amora asked, smiling.

Frigga paused, because the truth was she really didn’t. If Amora was determined to catch King Bor she might very well succeed.

“He’s a king, he’ll be on the lookout for pretty maidens with high ambitions,” Frigga said instead.

“Not like me,” Amora said confidently.

There was a knock on the door and both women jumped, then started laughing at their folly.

“It’s not like we’re in here planning a revolution,” Frigga giggled as Amora went to the door.

It was a servant carrying a box tied with a ribbon. “For Miss Amora,” he said.

Amora took it with a seductive smile and closed the door. “Another gift? Oh what a lucky girl I am,” she purred.

“You’re a flirt,” Frigga said, “And if you aren’t careful it’s going to backfire on you horribly one day. I don’t doubt you can catch the attentions of someone old and rich, but if you balance too many men at once then it’ll come crashing down on your head.”

Amora clearly wasn’t listening. She opened the box and held up a broach with a large ruby at the centre. “From Lord Cheratyr,” she said.

“In exchange for some flirting?” Frigga challenged.

Amora shrugged gracefully. “And maybe a _little_ more,” she said, “But then every girl needs a backup plan, and he and his wife are so close to divorcing anyway it’s really no effort.” Her smile fell into a sharper expression at the look on Frigga’s face. “You know nothing of what it’s like to start with nothing,” she said.

Frigga pressed her lips together rather than speak of the past. “You haven’t started with nothing,” she said. “Your mother may have had you and your sister outside of marriage but she’s made enough in life to send you both to the Academy.”

“She slept with the Headmistress,” Amora said bluntly, “And then I did, because my mother was too old to satisfy.”

Frigga stared at her in shock. “Amora that’s…”

“Wrong? Probably, for the Headmistress; I didn’t mind so much, that’s how I got the good bedroom and the timetable with no early classes,” Amora said. “The world is full of unkindness, learn to live with it, grow hard, get clever, or it’ll destroy you.”

Frigga blinked a tear out of her eye. “I had no idea. I would have asked Haewkyr to pay your fees if I’d known.”

Amora looked at her thoughtfully. “You would have, wouldn’t you?” she said thoughtfully. “That’s why you’ll never be powerful, you care too much.”

****

Thanos sat on his ship, flexing his gauntlet hand slowly over and over again, trying to grow used to the feel of it. Making it work wasn’t the problem, the Dwarf, Eitri, had done brilliant work and the gauntlet seemed to know what he wanted almost instinctively. No, it was the slight ache on the back of his hand where the metal touched his skin. He wasn’t one for wearing gloves usually. He supposed he’d get used to it, although it had been fifteen years and it still irritated him.

Once he had the Space Stone back he would rescue some of his people. Not all, half would have to remain behind and rebuild from the ashes, but the remaining Titans could take to the stars, follow him to the worlds he whose population he had halved, and witness how they thrived once the imbalance had been restored.

Then he would kill them.

Balance had to be maintained. The Titan race had brought forth its own ruin by expanding far beyond what its planet could sustain. It had reached out and conquered, expanded and conquered again. Such madness was unsustainable. Had Thanos been in charge then he would have prevented such reckless growth. As it was, all it took was a single planet possessing power his people had never seen before and the tide had reversed, forcing his people back to their home world, and into starvation and sickness.

No planet’s population should be allowed to grow beyond its limits. That just made sense. If he had all six stones then he would be able to take care of the problem instantly, on all worlds, but that was just a dream. No one had ever located all six stones at the same time. One would surface for a few years, then disaster and devastation would come from those who would misuse it, and then the stone would disappear as though it never was, just in time for another one to appear.

Thanos was interrupted in his musings by Tanzir, Brokkr’s paid man and bodyguard during space travel. Brokkr was back at his home right now, and so Tanzir served Thanos on the Dwarf’s coin.

“Excuse me, Lord Thanos, but I have returned from the errand you sent me on,” Tanzir said.

Thanos looked up. “And?” he asked.

“The people of Titan are growing weaker every day. A great many have starved, many more have fallen to illness. They suffer,” Tanzir said.

Thanos gritted his teeth. The damn Asgardian army still blockaded his world. Without the Space Stone he had no way to save his people.

“Any sign they have attempted my idea?” he asked.

Tanzir shook his head. “The leaders are still insisting that people try harder to till the fields, to find things to eat. They themselves still dine on decent enough food, but it’s only a matter of time before there are riots.”

“Time is growing short,” Thanos said, concerned. “I must act soon, but without the Space Stone I am helpless.”

“The Thieves Guild will succeed soon I am certain,” Tanzir said, “They have never failed before; having said that, if Odin is the only one who can resist then there are other options available.”

“Such as?” Thanos asked, curious.

“If Odin were to travel to another realm then he could return to Asgard via the Bifrost in an instant, but if we were to arrange to remove him from the nine realms, then he would have to use a ship to return, a much lengthier process,” Tanzir said. “Enough time for you to invade any of the nine realms and draw out the Asgardian army. Once the army is on the battlefield…”

“I will be able to see them,” Thanos finished for him. “I can put them under my control.”

“The entire army, the Valkyrie too if possible, that’s enough to send back to Asgard with instructions to begin the devastation, and during the chaos you can retrieve the Space Stone yourself, no need for the Thieves Guild, assuming they have not yet succeeded by the time you are ready to try your own plan,” Tanzir said confidently.

“I’ve heard there are no magic-users left on Midgard,” Thanos said thoughtfully.

“If I might suggest, Lord Thanos, the Vanir army I almost as formidable as the Asgardian one, if you were to find a way to bring both armies together then you would be unstoppable,” Tanzir continued.

Thanos smiled at the thought. “How far away from here is the Vanir home world?” he asked.

“Approximately a month,” Tanzir said. “If you remain in orbit around Vanaheim I can use the Bifrost to travel to Asgard and remove Odin from the nine realms. I doubt I can kill him, although I am willing to try. Once he’s gone you can make your move.”

“Will the Asgardian’s use the Space Stone against me?” Thanos asked. 

“Doubtful,” Tanzir said. “They haven’t openly used it in years, and it seems that there aren’t that many people who know how to use it without some kind of mechanism, like the gauntlet, however King Eitri and King Bor are not on good terms, and the Dwarves have not taken any commissions from Asgard for half a century.”

Thanos nodded thoughtfully. “I approve of you plan, we will make arrangements to depart for Vanaheim as soon as possible. And once I have the Space Stone back I shall save what’s left of my people.”


	14. Vanaheim

Daianya was up in her room packing her bags. She couldn’t imagine wearing fancy gowns while exploring the sights of Vanaheim, but the few days at the Vanir court at the end of the trip would require fancier things and she was stuck trying to figure out which ones would travel well.

“You know, I could pack some pretty dresses in a separate bag for you and send it along with Anima?” offered Nal from the doorway.

Daianya’s shoulders relaxed. “Would you? You’re better at this than me.”

“I know, and I knew you were packing because I could sense the frustration from the garden,” Nal said, stepping into the room. “Pull out anything fancy and just take what you want, I’ll handle the rest.”

Daianya reached in and pulled out a handful of fabric, ignoring the way Nal winced at her rough handling of the clothes.

“You were going to take the red one?” Nal said, taking the dresses from her and carefully laying them out one by one.

“I like the red one, the neckline doesn’t itch,” Daianya said.

“Then have it remade in green or dark blue, those colours suit you best,” Nal said, stroking the fabric like it was a frightened kitten. “Did you put in any jewellery or powders?”

“No,” Daianya admitted. “I would have gotten around to it!”

Nal just stared at her patiently.

“Alright, I would have totally forgotten and relied on whatever Anima remembered to pack,” Daianya admitted, laughing.

Nal smiled at her. “You were born to wear armour,” she said. “Anima likes fancy clothes but she’s terrible at taking care of them, and I…”

“Love it,” Daianya finished for her. “You like fashion, and pretty things, and silk skirts with petticoats under them.”

“It’s important to look like a princess, in case someone forgets and treats me like a Jotun,” Nal said. “But I do also just really love it. The lace on this one is so pretty.”

“Keep it, it barely fits me these days anyway, what with my arms,” Daianya said, flexing her right arm and showing off the muscle.

Nal made a mock impressed expression and turned to face Daianya’s wardrobe. “I’ll have everything pressed and packed, and leave you some instructions in the bag for accessorising,” she said.

“Thanks,” Daianya said, hoisting her now appropriately packed bag onto her shoulders.

They both turned at the sound of the elevator arriving on the landing.

“Anima?” Nal asked, confused.

“She’s already left, hasn’t she?” Daianya said back.

It was Odin. He saw them looking out of Daianya’s bedroom door and walked over.

“Daianya, I came to talk to you for a moment before you left on your holiday. Nal, how are you?”

“Cold,” Nal said and left the room with a bow.

Odin turned back to Daianya who was looking at him expectantly. “Is she alright?” he asked.

“I’m sure you can find out for yourself after we talk,” Daianya said, letting her bag slide off her shoulders and onto the floor.

Odin leaned out and closed the door behind him, giving them some privacy.

“She can hear my thoughts,” Daianya reminded him, “It’s hardly necessary to shut her out.”

“I don’t mean to,” Odin said, “Truly, but I need to speak with you before you go, about Prince Norbleen.”

“What about him?” Daianya asked.

“Your Grandfather and I had no idea that you were writing back and forth enough for him to extend you an invitation like this,” Odin said. “Is there something going on here that we ought to know about?”

“No,” Daianya said.

“Will there be? Do you think he’s hoping to draw closer to you?” Odin asked. “Politics can be quite a difficult world to navigate, if the two of you enter into any kind of relationship there may be realm-altering side effects regardless of how it turns out.”

“We’re friends,” Daianya said. “I’m not looking for anything more, I doubt he is, and if he is I’ll tell him no.”

“That’s the problem,” Odin said. “If you turn him down he may get upset, his father in turn will be insulted and we will have a lot of smoothing over to do.”

“So are you telling me I can’t go?” Daianya asked.

“No, I’m asking you to be careful in how you handle things. If you don’t mean to grow closer to him then you must maintain a suitable distance. Don’t be alone with him, don’t be too friendly, court manners are best, that sort of thing.”

Daianya resisted the urge to sigh very heavily. “I promise, Father, I will not cause a diplomatic incident.”

Odin smiled. “I know you find this frustrating, I did too when I was a young man, but we are not like other people, our relationships cause wars, or end them.”

“He knows I have plans to be a Valkyrie,” Daianya said. “I intend to stick with those plans.”

“I hope that you and he are on the same page in all this, and that you have a wonderful time,” Odin said.

“Thank you, Father, I’m heading off now, I’ll see you in a month,” Daianya said, picking up her bag again. “Perhaps you can go and speak to Nal now; she’s still in her room.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked out, heading down the stairs with an easy step despite the weight of her bag across her shoulders.

****

Odin sighed and stepped out onto the landing. He glanced across at Nal’s door, which she had closed. He hesitated. He had a lot to do, he always did, but first Anima’s reaction and now Daianya’s made him uncomfortable. 

He walked across the landing and knocked on the door. Nal pulled it open a moment later. Her face was that of her mother’s, right down to the freckles, but it was so hard to see that sometimes beneath the blue skin and red eyes.

“I wanted to speak to you,’ Odin said.

“No you didn’t,” Nal said. “But come in anyway.”

He stepped into her room, noticing at once how different it was to both Daianya’s and Anima’s. Nal’s room was neater than both in terms of clothing and items, but almost every available surface was covered in pots that spilled over with all kinds of plants in various stages of growth.

Odin stood in the centre of the room awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

“I know you’ve heard about the Vanaheim visit,” he said. “I wasn’t able to take everyone, and I… um… I thought Anima would have fun visiting their Tower of Magic.”

Nal picked a book from her desk, the only surface not currently hosting pots of soil. “I’ve been researching the old gods,” she said. “I thought if I knew more about them then I might be able to have a better understanding of how Yggdrasil chooses them.”

“Oh,” Odin said, surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation. “And what did you find out?”

“That it couldn’t be more random if Yggdrasil had made Loki do it. There’s no pattern, gods are born, discovered and die seemingly with no overarching plan at all. There have been three gods of music and as near as I can tell none of them did anything particularly important in the defence of Yggdrasil. Given what we are told about the role of the gods of Asgard I was expecting some kind of connection between the different gods and significant events that they were present for, honestly? Nothing.”

“Yggdrasil is too far beyond us to bother with such minor decisions,” Odin said, falling back on his own teachings about the greatness of the World Tree.

“That makes sense, but then why are we taught that Yggdrasil _chooses_ the gods?” Nal asked. “Why would it? What is it choosing them for? Is it random or is there some pattern I haven’t found yet?”

“You sound like…” Odin started to say and paused. Nal looked at him expectantly. “You sound like your sister, Anima, when she’s excited about something,” Odin said.

He’d been going to say she sounded like her mother, but seeing Yrsa in Nal’s face was unnerving. Yrsa had been brown and sunny, and Nal was blue and cold. The contrast almost felt like a betrayal of who Yrsa had been. Odin knew it was foolish, but he always saw Anima as Yrsa’s child, Daianya as his, and Nal… Nal as Bestla’s, a Jotun child for a Jotun Queen, but whereas Bestla had been calm and gentle, Nal was sharp and hard. So she wasn’t really anyone’s, she stood alone.

“Well we are sisters,” Nal said. “And on the subject of sisters, Daianya will not marry Norbleen, the King can’t allow that, not as long as he’s still figuring out what he’s going to do about Hela.”

“Hela?” Odin asked. “Hela’s been doing very well, she can only improve.”

Nal gave him a look that made him feel as though she knew far more than he did. “Hela is better at hiding it, but she still doesn’t understand why she can’t just kill anyone standing in her way. Unless she actually learns to understand why that’s a problem then she won’t ever be able to be trusted with the realm. King Bor would be a fool to send Daianya away with how things stand now.”

“How would you know?” Odin shot back. 

“I’ve spent more time with her over the last fifteen years,” Nal said, “And I pay attention. And if you weren’t so caught up in trying to ‘win’ this battle you’d realise it’s a losing one. Hela will not change, she can’t, Daianya will be the next Queen of Asgard and who knows where Hela will end up, although I can guarantee that no matter what, she’ll be mad about it. But enjoy your trip, Father, without Hela or myself at your side to cause you stress, you will at least be able to relax for a moment.”

Odin stepped back, hearing the dismissal and not being sure what to do about it. He wanted to talk to her the way he did with Anima, or discuss serious topics of diplomacy and realm-management the way he did with Daianya, but Nal was a wall of ice, and Odin had never been very good in the cold.

“I’ll take you to Vanaheim the next time we visit,” he said awkwardly.

“I look forward to it,” Nal said, sounding anything but truthful.

****

Frigga was standing with her mother as they both watched the servant pack Frigga’s clothes into her bag.

“Has that shirt ben pressed well enough?” Lady Wearveil asked, watching the servant like a hawk.

“I can pack my own things, Mother,” Frigga said.

“But can you pack them as well as a servant with centuries of experience?” Lady Wearveil asked her. “Fogldyr here packs my things for me often and I _never_ have a single wrinkle in any of my clothes when I arrive at my destination.”

Fogldyr bowed his head and hid a smile at the praise.

“It’s just that where we’re going involves some camping,” Frigga said.

“Yes that’s why I had him pack you some tunics,’ Lady Wearveil said. “But you will also be staying at Lord Smairken’s estate and I want you resplendent in gowns. You need to look utterly perfect in every way if you are to outshine a princess.”

“I’ve heard rumours that the princess likes to fight in the training yards,” Frigga said.

“So have I, but that doesn’t matter, simply by being a princess she gains approval automatically for everything she does. If she liked to roll in mud you would still be at a disadvantage. She comes with assets you have to make up for.” 

“Maybe she’ll teach me some knew fighting techniques?” Frigga said, earning herself a glare from her mother.

“Do not even start,” Lady Wearveil said softly. “You are not a hero, you are a Lady, and a Lady – ”

“Marries a Lord, or a Prince, or in a pinch someone very wealthy,” Frigga said.

“Prince Norbleen and Sir Kinndyr are both very noble, kind, young men who would never knowingly cause you any distress,” Lady Wearveil said. “Do you think I chose them _only_ for the wealth and power they will one day wield?”

“No,” Frigga said after a pause.

There was a knock on the door. Fogldyr went to open it. Haewkyr was on the other side, grinning cheerfully. “It’s almost time to go,” he said. “Princess Daianya and her friends will be arriving any minute and Prince Norbleen wants to leave on the flyer right away, in case his father tries to invite the Princess to something social.”

“It is his right as king,” Lady Wearveil said, but there was a twinkle in her eye that never seemed to appear when she looked at Frigga. “Best be getting on then.”

Haewkyr took the bag from Fogldyr and groaned. “What’s in this thing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Mother packed for me,” Frigga said.

“Essentials,” Lady Wearveil said. “Now you be a good brother and make sure your sister has plenty of time with the Prince and with Sir Kinndyr. They ought to get to know her better.”

“I promise that I will do my best to keep the conversation flowing,” Haewkyr said, offering Frigga his free arm. “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep the Prince and Princess waiting.”

“Remember to act like a Lady,” Lady Wearveil said as Frigga walked from the room.

Frigga and Haewkyr exchanged a glance as they walked out of sight. Frigga rolled her eyes, Haewkyr stuck his tongue out.

“Come on, Frigg, let’s go and have some fun,” Haewkyr said.

****

Daianya walked into the stables to find the others all waiting for her. “Ready to go?” she asked.

“Ready!” Norah said as the other women nodded. 

They swung up in the saddles and rode out of the stable and out of the gate of the palace. The road to the Bifrost was clear and they went from a trot to the canter. 

“If anyone forgot anything, you’d better speak up before we reach the Bifrost!” Daianya called out.

There were some laughs from behind her. The air had a sense of adventure about it. After so many years of training and fighting and training even more, a holiday felt long overdue, and the women felt as though years of maturity were lifting away with each step of their horse’s hooves.

The canter became a run as they each tried to catch up with each other, and then they were on the Bifrost bridge, a long, rainbow, glittering thing with (as Nal had pointed out when she was no more than three) no safely barriers. 

No one thought of that today as they reached galloping speed and began to laugh in excitement. They slowed down as they reached the Bifrost mechanism and greeted the gatekeeper.

“How are you Hunding?” Daianya asked as she dismounted.

Hunding was one of two gatekeepers to the Bifrost, working in shifts to allow the people of the nine realms to come and go from Asgard. He gave her a bow and her friends a nod. “I’m well, your Grace, I’ve entered all the controls, step inside and I’ll send you all safely to Vanaheim.”

Daianya turned and caught Tarah’s eye, she grinned. “Ready for an adventure?” she asked.

Unseen behind her, Norah clutched Tiree’s arm hard enough to make the other woman wince.

“Let’s go,” Tarah said.

They lined up with their bags as Hunding activated the controls. The Bifrost mechanism shuddered slightly as it activated and built up energy, before one by one they were sucked away into the portal it created and spun away towards Vanaheim.

They arrived in a flash of light, and the Bifrost beam vanished around them. They stood together at the main landing site on Vanaheim, just outside of the palace walls.

Daianya saw Prince Norbleen first and almost stepped forwards, but then she suddenly noticed King Dimcken standing beside him and sank into a perfect royal curtsey. Behind her she heard a shuffle of fabric that told her that her friends were doing the same.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “Prince Norbleen.”

“Your Grace,” King Dimcken said, smiling broadly, “It’s been far too long since you visited our realm.”

“Not my intention I assure you,” Daianya said, wishing Nal was there to do the talking. Nal was always better at using courtly language.

“Please rise, and your friends too. My son told me that he intends to depart immediately, but I wanted to come and welcome you myself,” Dimcken said, still beaming.

“I am most grateful for your consideration,” Daianya said.

Beside his father, Norbleen mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ at her. Daianya very carefully did not react.

“Allow me to escort you and your friends to the flyer,” Norbleen said aloud. “Father, if you will give us leave?”

King Dimcken looked disappointed, but he waved them off with his hand. “Of course, off you go. I will have the chance to speak to Princess Daianya at length when you return, you are staying a few days for your father’s visit, are you not?”

“Yes, your Majesty, I am,” Daianya said. “I look forward to telling you all my impressions of your fine realm.”

King Dimcken nodded happily. “Well, off you go then,” he said. Norbleen offered Daianya his arm and led her away as quickly as good manners dictated.

The moment they were out of hearing range he looked at her and sighed. “I’m really sorry, he insisted,” he said.

“That’s alright, I understand,” Daianya said.

“I thought it best that we head off right away,” Norbleen said. “We can do introductions on the flyer.”

He led them down the street which ran around the palace walls and out to the landing pads and the waiting flyer, where a group of young men and one woman stood waiting. Prince Norbleen led the way inside and to the seating area, which looked more like a living room with plump couches and a table of finger food. He sat down and gestured for everyone else to do the same. 

Daianya sat nearby, behind her, Norah stepped back and shoved Tarah forwards so that she ended up sitting next to Daianya on the couch. On the other side of the flyer, Frigga and Haewkyr both raised an eyebrow.

“So,” Norbleen said once they were all seated, “Introductions. I am Prince Norbleen, this is Lord Haewkyr, his sister Sar Frigga, Sir Kinndyr, Sir Unotis, Sir Topmhat and Sir Petryr.” He turned to look at Daianya, who gave them all a nod of acknowledgement.

“These are my friends, Tarah, Tiree, Norah and Meydee,” she said. “We’re all Valkyrie and very much looking forward to seeing some of Vanaheim.”

Kinndyr, who was sitting next to Tiree, looked over at her and gave her a smile. “We’ll be visiting my father’s estate,” he said, “Do you like mazes?”

Frigga sat with Haewkyr and watched as the two groups began getting to know one another. After a few minutes the pilot made a short announcement and the flyer took to the air.

“Everything alright?” Haewkyr asked her quietly.

“She’s not what I was expecting,” Frigga said, “But she’s got the courtly speech down perfectly.”

“She was raised to it, same as you,” Haewkyr said. “You know you have nothing to worry about.”

“Not from the Princess,” Frigga said, turning to look at Sir Kinndyr’s clumsy attempts to engage one of Daianya’s friends.


	15. Young 'Love'

They were an hour out of the capital city when the door of the cabin to the flyer opened and Dorgen walked out.

“The pilot let me handle the controls for a few minutes,” he said to Norbleen, who immediately faked panic. 

“Oh no, are we going down? Is he saving us? How far did we fall?” he asked dramatically.

Dorgen stuck his tongue out at Norbleen and grabbed a drink off the table. “I was very steady; he said I was a natural.” He caught sight of Daianya and gave her a wave. “Hi your Grace.”

“Hello Prince Dorgen, good to see you again,” Daianya said. “These are my friends.”

She introduced the others to him and they bowed their heads one by one. Dorgen grinned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he said, glancing at Meydee a second time and then quickly away. 

Norah’s eyes glittered in sudden delight; Frigga looked down at her lap and pretended she hadn’t noticed the same thing.

“How have you been since I last saw you?” Daianya asked Dorgen as he sat down on one of the couches. “You’ve grown a lot taller.”

Dorgen preened slightly. “My mother’s family is all tall,” he said.

“So is Father’s,” Norbleen said.

“Not as tall as my uncles,” Dorgen said, “I may end up taller than you one day.”

“Not a chance,” Norbleen said. “When you get half an inch shorter I’ll ask Sar Frigga here to cast a spell on you to make you stop growing.”

Dorgen turned to look at her in alarm as everyone started laughing.

“You can’t really do that, can you?” he asked her, trying not to sound nervous.

“There are spells that can do almost anything,” Frigga said with mock seriousness, “But they come with a price which I doubt your brother can afford.”

“Oooohhhh,” called out Petryr, “That sounds like a challenge.”

Norbleen looked across at Frigga with interest in his eyes. “Yes it does,” he said. “What price do you think I would be unwilling to pay?”

Frigga shrugged in a graceful way that made Kinndyr swallow hard and shift in his seat. “There’re always things people are unable, or unwilling to pay. Would you give up your throne to make your brother half an inch shorter than you? Would you offer up your firstborn?”

“No, but stopping Dorgen from surpassing me in height is hardly a difficult ask either,” Norbleen said.

“Hey!” Dorgen protested.

“Magic itself demands a price to be paid by the caster,” Frigga said. “A brewing is easier because a lot of the magic is in the ingredients, but that doesn’t mean the final spell to bring it all together isn’t difficult. Stopping someone’s natural growth would easily exhaust most sorcerers for a week, and they would expect to be compensated accordingly.”

“So a bag of gold?” Norbleen said. “I don’t mind haggling but the throne is too high an opening bid, my lady.”

Frigga shrugged again. “Immunity from prosecution for the practice of magic on a non-consenting party would be a good start,” she said.

“Done,” Norbleen said, “That plus a bag of gold and we have a deal.”

“No!” Dorgen yelled. Norbleen started to laugh. 

“Oh Brother, if it bothers you that much then I suppose I shall simply learn to live with you looking down upon me.”

“Good,” Dorgen huffed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m reasonably certain that you are already taller than me,” Daianya said.

Dorgen looked at her and grinned. “Yeah, you’re short,” he said, and they both laughed.

****

The flyer took four hours to reach their first destination. Most of the time was spent talking and snacking. Tarah found herself cornered by Petryr and quietly dropped a reference to her last girlfriend, so that he knew where she stood.

“Ah, right, well I’m not sure about Sar Frigga, you’ll have to ask her,” he said immediately. “If I’d known you were coming I’d have asked to invite my cousin, she prefers women too and she’s not with anyone right now.”

“I’m not really actively looking,” Tarah said.

“It’s a holiday, with a bunch of young people, and no parents,” he said. “You don’t have to be looking to have some holiday fun.”

“True,” Haewkyr said, overhearing them. 

“I’ll try my best to have fun anyway,” Tarah said. “But if I might make a suggestion? Norah’s a _lot_ of fun, especially on holiday. Just don’t fall for her, she’s a career women.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Petryr said, raising his glass to her.

He walked away to speak to Norah, who was already speaking to two of the others, and Tarah found herself face to face with Frigga.

“You aren’t looking?” she asked.

“Are you offering?” Tarah said immediately.

Frigga smiled. “I’m afraid not, but I that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Tarah nodded. “Sar Frigga, yes?”

“Please just Frigga, I was born with a title, that doesn’t mean I have to take it on holiday with me,” Frigga said.

“I was born with no title, but I’m a legacy in the Valkyrie, my mother and grandmother both served,” Tarah said.

“Did you want to join or did you feel you had to?” Frigga asked her.

“I wanted to,” Tarah said. “It was all I ever wanted, growing up in the city so close to the training yards. When my mother became a commander and we moved into one of the houses next to the barracks I thought all my dreams had come true.”

“Is it hard though? Training every day, always being ready to head into battle?” Frigga asked.

“Yes, but also no, not when you have your squad by your side,” Tarah said.

Frigga smiled wistfully. “Do you take older recruits?” she asked just as the pilot announced that they were descending.

“Daianya was an older recruit,” Tarah said as they went to sit down. “It’s not the norm, but it’s been done occasionally. Do you know someone who wants to join?”

Frigga sat down with perfect grace while Tarah flopped into the seat beside her. “There might be someone, a friend of mine,” she said.

“Ask Daianya what it’s like being in with the younger set,” Tarah said. “Then you can tell your friend and see if she wants to go through all that.”

Over on the other side of the flyer Daianya and Norbleen had sat down together and were talking, heads leaned toward one another.

“I hope my friends aren’t too much of a bother? I can tell them to knock it off if so,” he said.

Daianya shook her head. “Norah loves the attention, Tiree can handle herself, Meydee is quiet but hardly insecure, and Tarah’s preferences are for women. I think they’ll be fine.”

“And you?” he asked. “Do you feel bothered?”

“Not so far, but I’ll let you know,” Daianya said. “Lord Haewkyr keeps staring at me and pretending he isn’t.”

“He’s just sizing you up,” Norbleen said. “He does that to every new person he meets. Once he decides you aren’t a threat to the crown he’ll come over and beat you down with charm.”

Daianya laughed at the image. “Is he going to be your head of security one day with his concern about crown security?” she asked.

Norbleen shrugged. “Maybe, it’s not a role most people take on for long, but he’s good at organising people, so he could lead the security team if he wanted to, one day.”

“Hard to believe that one day the realms will be under the control of these young men,” Daianya said, nodding toward where Kinndyr was blushing bright red at something Norah said to him.

“Or even me,” Norbleen said. “I’ve been raised to it and I still feel as though I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“No matter what happens, you can’t be worse than Hela,” Daianya said.

“I’ve heard rumours, is she really as violent as they say?” Norbleen asked.

“She tries not to be,” Daianya said. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the future of Vanaheim,” Norbleen said – Daianya looked at him warily – “I’ve been talking things over with Haewkyr and the others and there’re a few things I want to change, like education. Asgard has a very robust education system, doesn’t it? Everyone gets a chance to learn?”

Daianya relaxed again.

“Yes, the crown funds the schools,” Daianya said.

“How did they set it up?” Norbleen asked. “Right now on Vanaheim the only people who get an education are the ones who can afford it, and that doesn’t seem right to me.”

“Each district has a number of schools depending on numbers,” Daianya said. “All children too young to work must attend at least long enough to learn how to read and do basic sums, if thy show aptitude then they stay longer and learn more, maybe becoming scholars or going into professions that require greater knowledge.”

Norbleen nodded. “So I’d start by looking at the census records,” he said thoughtfully, “Work on figuring out numbers and then allocating funds to build the schools in the best locations. I know this is a holiday and you probably don’t want to be grilled about how Asgard runs its infrastructure, but if I could go over some things with you now and again I’d really appreciate it. I discuss these things with Haewkyr but he wasn’t raised to it like we were.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” Daianya said, smiling.

****

“She’s smiling at him, this is terrible,” Norah whispered to Tiree.

“Smiling means nothing, you smile at everyone,” Tiree whispered back.

“What secret are we hiding?” Haewkyr whispered from behind them, making them both jump.

“None of your business,” Norah said.

“You’re talking about my future king, at least ten percent of this is my business,” Haewkyr said.

“No it’s not,” Norah insisted as the flyer jolted as it set down.

“Very well, but I’m watching,” Haewkyr said with a twinkle in his eye.

****

Nal and Hela stood side by side with identical looks of boredom on their faces. The wedding was exactly as bad as Nal had thought it would be. Over to the right, Bor stood shifting from foot to foot, giving the wedding the honour of his presence but impatient for it to be over so that he could get on with his day. Only Odin stood still and looked interested, although Nal would bet Loki’s castle that he was just as bored as the rest of them.

“We bring together today two people under the eyes of Yggdrasil,” intoned the officiant.

“And three hundred people under threat of impoliteness,” Hela mumbled. 

Nal bit her lip.

“Tifer, son of Lord Koblow, a man worthy of his title and the responsibilities he holds,” the officiant went on.

“If he wasn’t, do we get to leave?” Nal mumbled back. This time it was Hela who had to fight a smile.

“Who comes today to wed Myia, daughter of Lord Catren, and to do his duty manfully and without hesitation” 

“Is he talking about sex?” Hela whispered.

“In the middle of a wedding?!” Nal whispered back in mock outrage.

Odin shifted slightly beside them and they both went silent.

“Do you, Tifer Koblowson, vow to protect your new wife from harm, to guide her in all things, and to support her and any children she may give you?” the officiant asked.

“That’s not the traditional vow,” Hela whispered.

“True Men’s Alliance nutters,” Nal whispered back. “Lord Elbin rewrote the vows as a part of his latest book on how men and women should behave.”

“I so vow!” Tifer called out in an artificially deep voice. Hela smothered a snicker, Nal looked at her shoes.

“And do you, Myia Catrensdottir, vow to serve your new husband in all things, be guided by him, and always make his home comfortable for him?”

“Say no,” Hela hissed softly, “Tell them to fuck off.”

Myia did not look happy. She was pale and had dark shadows under her eyes. She glanced back at her father, but he just stared her down sternly.

Nal saw the exchange and her eyes narrowed.

“I do so vow,” Myia whispered.

The temperature of the hall they were standing in dropped noticeably. Odin shot a glare over at Nal but she didn’t look at him, her eyes were fixed on Lord Catren and the man standing beside him, Lord Elbin.

Others noticed the change in the air, some of them looked across at the most likely culprit although most kept their glances brief; no one wanted to antagonise an angry Jotun. Lord Elbin, by contrast, turned his head and stared directly at her with a challenging look.

“Nal,” Odin hissed.

“Freeze them out,” Hela whispered in her other ear.

Nal dropped her gaze from Lord Elbin and the temperature climbed back up toward normal.

“Under the eyes of Yggdrasil, I declare you bound to one another for all time. May you bring your husband joy, and may your wife always serve and obey,” the officiant said.

They all filed out into the sunshine and towards the place where tables laden with food had been set up. 

“That was wrong,” Nal said as soon as they were outside.

“Anyone can choose any form of wedding vow they wish,” Odin said.

“She didn’t look like she was the one who picked it,” Nal said.

“I can’t believe she went through with it, Tifer is completely useless as a person,” Hela said, “And probably very unsatisfying in the bedroom.”

“I wish she’d run from it,” Nal said. “She could have asked for help, there are places she could go, even right here, I would have helped her.”

“She’s weak,” Hela said. “If she’d kicked him in the balls and run then I could respect her, but she just went through with it anyway. Let’s eat.”

Nal turned toward Odin but he had already walked away. King Bor was having a glass of wine with no sign of discomfort over what had just happened.

The bride was sitting at the head table, smiling the worst fake smile Nal had ever seen. She was completely surrounded by supporters of the True Men’s Alliance. Nal walked towards her, wondering how to frame the questions going through her mind.

“Princess Nal, I see you have doubts regarding our way of doing things?” Lord Elbin said, appearing at her side.

“No,” Nal said. “I have no doubts about what you are doing.”

“You seem unhappy, whenever I see you. Is it because you are alone all the time? Being a Jotun in Asgard must be so isolating,” he said. 

His blue eyes bore into hers with an intensity Nal had never seen outside of pictures of mad men.

“Your assessment is incorrect,” Nal said, “As incorrect as your views on the role of women in Asgard.”

“On Jotunheim they keep their women locked away from outsiders,” Lord Elbin said. “That’s why when people visit they only see the men. The women have their own rooms and their own little societies all in private, while the men worry about the running of the realm. Perhaps you are only opposed to our ways because you don’t know any better?”

Nal’s face sank slowly into a scowl. Jotun society was almost completely led by women. Each woman was her own queen, with her own stronghold. The only court in the entire realm that was run by a man was the King’s Court, and that was made up of all the men who couldn’t find a home within a stronghold’s walls.

But most people didn’t know that. Jotunheim was a mystery to the rest of the nine realms and it was not Nal’s place to reveal the truth.

“You are wrong about everything you’ve ever thought,” she said and walked away from him. He chuckled behind her and she resisted the urge to send shards of ice flying backwards and through his body, removing the problem forever.


	16. A Difference of Opinion

Hela walked away from the wedding with a sigh of relief. She wasn’t close to any of the Lords or Ladies and for that she was grateful. One day when she was queen she’d never have to attend any of their stupid weddings.

Myia was an idiot; she should have refused Tifer in front of everyone and then stabbed him for being such a _weakling_. Hela had no sympathy for anyone who couldn’t stand up for themselves.

She took a shortcut through the execution grounds, eager to get back to her rooms and change out of her dress. She normally didn’t bother with such formal clothes, but she was trying to show the King that she could be queenly. Of course once she actually was the queen she’d never wear anything she didn’t want to again.

The dress was black and made of silk. The green accents were nice to look at, in fact she was considering adding them to her favourite outfits, but the skirt was just annoying. 

Still thinking about the stupidity of skirts, she almost missed the corpse. Of course a corpse in the execution grounds wasn’t that unusual normally, but unlike the others Hela didn’t have a hand in causing this one.

Feeling annoyed at the thought that her men had executed someone without her, she walked over to the body and turned it over with her foot.

A woman, dressed in clothes good for climbing, with her rope coiled wildly beneath and over her. Her body was broken, bones shattered and skin burst where she had hit the ground. 

Hela turned and looked up. There was a tower that rose above the execution grounds. It contained the prison offices on the first few floors, interrogation rooms halfway up, and Hela’s own suite of rooms on a higher floor. Hela could see several open windows from where she stood. Whoever this woman had been she had scaled the walls of the execution yard during a time when it was empty and then attempted entry to the palace. 

“Another thief?” Hela wondered aloud.

She went off in search of some guards. Honestly, she was getting tired of all these thieves dying before she got a chance to kill them. It was almost offensive how they kept showing up already dead. 

She comforted herself with the idea that there was still the second one currently in the dungeons who would be all hers once King Bor passed his sentence, but still, there weren’t that many executions these days. Peace was hard to handle some days. 

****

Daianya stood at the top of the largest waterfall she’d ever seen and looked down over the edge. The water passed beneath the bridge under her feet with a continuous roar.

“It’s beautiful!” she shouted.

“Can you see the lights at the bottom?!” Norbleen shouted back. “There’s a huge amount of background magic that makes it glow rainbow!”

Daianya leaned over further to see. The fence reached her chest which made it hard to lean out far enough.

“There’s viewing areas, if you want to walk down further!” Norbleen advised her.

She walked down a few dozen metres to where a viewing station had been set up. It was effectively a mirror, projected out over the falls and angling the image back to whoever stood on the bridge. The rainbow lights glittered and twinkled like starlight.

They had arrived at the falls a few hours earlier and had unpacked their things at the cabins a short walk away from the main waterfall. Even at the cabins there was a continuous low rumble of the falling water in the background. Petryr, whose family had land on the other side of the falls, had assured everyone that you got used to it.

“The only waterfall I’ve ever seen that was bigger was the one that falls off the side of Asgard!” Daianya yelled, “And I hardly think that counts!”

Norbleen grinned at her. “Vanaheim is ten times the size of Asgard, we have a lot of room to be big in!” he said.

****

Twenty feet away, Tarah sagged against the railing. “I shouldn’t have come!” she said to Norah.

“Nonsense! You need to be more positive!” Norah said. “Go and talk to her!”

“She’s busy talking to Prince Norbleen!” Tarah said. “You don’t interrupt royals when they’re talking!”

“You do when you’re their friend!” Norah insisted.

“Having fun?!” Frigga asked from behind them. They both turned around with identical guilty looks on their faces.

“Yes!” Norah said brightly.

“The falls are beautiful!” Tarah said.

“Not the only beautiful thing here, though?!” Frigga said.

Tarah put her face in her hands. “Just let me fall off the edge!” she said.

“I can’t help you with the Princess!” Frigga said, “But I’d advise you not to worry so much about the Prince! He’s not pursuing her!”

Norah’s eyes went huge. “Tell me everything!” she shrieked.

Tarah peeked out through her fingers. “Really?!”

Frigga nodded. “I promise!” she said with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Now enjoy the falls! How often will you get to see such wonder?!”

Tarah turned to look back at the falls again. “They really are beautiful!” she called, her eyes sliding almost unconsciously back to where Daianya stood, wild red hair growing ever wilder in the wind generated by the flowing water beneath her.

****

That night the group sat in the central room of the largest cabin and passed around several bottles of wine and liquor as the evening grew dark.

“Tomorrow we can hike down to the bottom of the falls and along the gorge for a while,” Norbleen said. “There’s a ton of magically infused rocks and crystals along the bottom, and a great swimming spot.”

“There’s also the tunnel,” Dorgen piped up.

“No,” Norbleen said. “The tunnel is off limits, and if I find out you went in I won’t send anyone to pick you up at the other end.”

“What’s the tunnel?” Daianya asked.

“The river at the base of the falls flows into the bottom of a mountain,” Norbleen said. “It goes all the way through safely, it’s just that it takes several hours to swim and most of it is really boring because it’s dark, and if you bring a waterproof torch then all there is to see is rock.”

“Ah,” Daianya said.

“I wasn’t going to try it,” Dorgen protested. “I was _mentioning_ it as a warning, in case anyone drifted too much while swimming.”

“Oh, I see,” Norbleen said in a teasing tone.

Dorgen stuck his tongue out and reached for his glass, the only one which contained juice.

The night wore on and one by one people drifted off to go to bed. Daianya called it a night close to midnight and headed back to the cabin she was sharing with Tarah and Norah. Norah had put herself in charge of allocating the sleeping arrangements, and had chosen a cabin with one tiny room and one bigger one.

“You too can go in together because I snore,” she had said. “Like, so loudly.”

“Louder than the falls?” Daianya had asked.

Norah had nodded seriously. “It’s a real problem. You two are better off without me.”

Now Daianya stepped into the shared room with a yawn. Tarah had turned in half an hour ago, and Daianya did her best not to turn on too many lights as she brushes her teeth and changed for the night, crawling into her bed and settling down with a sigh. Norbleen had asked her a lot of questions about how Asgard ran various state institutions, from education to the tax office. From what she could glean King Dimcken wasn’t all that interested in the fine details of realm management, preferring to leave things to his advisors. Norbleen on the other hand had plans to reform almost everything from the ground up, and bring Vanaheim from a somewhat old fashioned realm with equally old fashioned ideas into at least the current century. He wasn’t expected to take on the crown for centuries yet, but he clearly intended to have everything ready to go the moment the power was his.

At least he hadn’t brought up the possibility of marriage. When he’d first started asking about how Asgard ran things she was concerned he might be looking for more than advice. A queen raised knowing how to run things more in line with what he was after would be an asset, but so far all his questions had been practical and very much not about _inter_ realm politics, for which she was grateful.

Tired out from her day Daianya slipped away into sleep easily, oblivious to the fact that Tarah was still awake in the other bed, quietly freaking out about how to approach something that felt impossible every time she thought about admitting her feelings.

****

Nal sat at the feast that night and glared across the room at where Tifer Koblowson was sitting with his new wife, or rather, where he lounged with his friends while his wife fetched and poured them drinks.

“Is he somehow unaware that we have paid servants to pour the wine?” Nal growled under her breath.

“There is no law that forbids a woman from waiting on her husband,” Odin said. “If she wants to stop and he tries to force her then there is grounds to intervene, but until then it’s her choice.”

“It doesn’t look like her choice,” Nal said. “She looks miserable, not at all like a happy bride.”

“I agree,” Odin said. “But if she won’t come forwards then we can’t step in.”

Nal scowled at Tifer as he leaned back and waved his glass at where Myia stood holding a wine jug. Based on the movement of his lips Nal was pretty sure he call her ‘woman’ instead of her name.

Myia refilled his glass and looked at the floor. Nal gripped the arms of her chair and went to rise.

“Oh leave it alone!” Hela said, “She made her choice; if she’s too weak to ki– uh– _leave_ him then she deserves her fate.”

Nal turned her glare onto Hela. “That’s cruel,” she said.

“Most things are,” Hela said, unconcerned.

“Will you two stop bickering?” King Bor said. “I’m trying to enjoy my dinner and instead I have to hear you two squawking back and forth like children.”

“There was another death thief in the palace grounds today,” Hela said, immediately changing the subject. “I alerted the guards and they are investigating.”

Nal didn’t say anything, just turned back to look at where Tifer sat.

Lord Elbin had come over to speak to him. Almost as though he sensed her gaze he looked up and gave her a smirk.

Nal’s eyes narrowed but she stayed in her seat.

“That’s three thieves now. I’ve not yet heard from Hymir, he’s still out tracking down the source of the contract,” Bor said. “Until then we’re just going to have to deal with these criminals.”

“I still say we ought to move the tesseract,” Odin said. “We don’t have to tell anyone it’s gone.”

“But if anyone finds out they’ll think we don’t trust our own security,” Bor said. “I’ve made my decision, the tesseract stays put.”

The music started and people rose to dace. Nal watched them trying not to look envious. She loved to dance, but no one other than Loki ever asked her, and he was away hiking with Anima.

Tifer rose from his seat and held out a hand to Myia. He said something to her, from his manner it looked like an order. Myia put down her wine jug and took his hand, she followed him out to the floor and they began to dance together.

Nal watched for a few minutes, the urge to turn the entire floor to ice and send every dancer falling onto their arses growing slowly inside of her.

When the feeling became almost unbearable, she rose from her chair and walked away from the feast hall, out to one of the balconies that overlooked the city. The night air and the twinkling lights were calming and she sighed deeply.

She was still there when a voice spoke behind her.

“Your…your Grace?”

She turned to see Myia standing in the archway.

“Myia,” Nal acknowledged, surprised to see her.

“I… I…” Myia paused, looking fearful. “Will you help me?” she whispered in a rush. “I didn’t want to, but my father said he’d beat me and I was so afraid, but you aren’t afraid of anything, you stood up to Lord Elbin, I saw you, will you help me, please.”

Nal stepped towards her. “Yes, come with me,” she said. “I’ll take you to somewhere safe and fetch my father, no one should be married against their will.”

Myia began to cry.

“There you are, woman, why did you walk away from me?” Tifer said, walking out onto the balcony. He caught sight of Nal and faltered slightly, as people often did in her presence.

“Myia and I are taking a walk,” Nal said.

“She’s my woman,” Tifer said.

“Are you challenging my rank?” Nal asked him, her voice as quiet and deadly as a hidden snake. 

Tifer glanced across at Myia. “Come on,” he said.

“I _said_ are you challenging my rank?” Nal asked again, stepping forwards, eyes flashing.

Tifer faltered for a moment, but then drew himself up to his full height. “High rank doesn’t belong to women,” he said. His eyes widened in sudden shock and he grabbed his throat. Hela stepped out from behind him.

“That book of poisonous plants you lent me was really interesting,” she said to Nal as Tifer struggled for air. “Remind me to return it to you, it’s still in my rooms.”

Nal watched dispassionately as Tifer’s face began to turn blue. “What did you do to him?” she asked.

Standing in the shadows, Myia watched with wide and horrified eyes.

“Paralysing dart,” Hela said. “It lasts six minutes, he may die, he may not, I don’t really care.”

Nal turned to where Myia had been but she’d run away. “Damn,” Nal said.

“What?” Hela asked. “I already told you, if she was weak enough to marry him she deserves whatever she gets.”

“And I told you it’s not that easy. You’re strong, Hela, you’ve always been strong. You have no idea what it’s like to be thought of as lesser,” Nal snapped.

Tifer continued to choke in the background as Hela rolled her eyes.

“Anyone can be strong,” she said. “You just want to make excuses for her because you see yourself in her.”

“I’m nothing like her!” Nal snapped.

Cold wind began to blow around the balcony as Hela shook her head. “You’re the only one of us who’s not a god,” she said. “You’re the only Jotun, a race of slow and stupid people better suited to die in waves so that better fighters can get closer to the enemy.”

“That’s not true!” Nal shouted. “You’re just a cruel, wicked, monster who can’t respect anything that you see as weaker than you!”

Hela scowled. “At least I _have_ respect,” she snapped.

“Not from me!” Nal shot back.

Hela summoned a blade. Nal did the same. They stared one another down as Tifer lost consciousness behind them.

“You are nothing,” Hela said. “You’re only here because Father isn’t strong enough to throw away family.”

“Why do you think you’re still here?” Nal hissed.

Hela raised her sword and slashed downwards. Nal blocked it on her ice blade and spun beneath Hela’s guard, swinging in a backhanded strike which Hela dodged by stepping back, before slicing forwards again.

They traded strikes in a flurry, each glaring at the other, lost in fury and blind to the crowd of people growing at the balcony entrance. Someone grabbed Tifer and dragged him back away from the fight, where one of his friends began to try and resuscitate him.

Odin reached the commotion and pushed his way through the crowd, fighting past the people watching the fight like it was a spectacle. He pushed past Lord Elbin, who was smirking as he watched the two princesses battle.

“Women are such emotional creatures,” he said to Lord Koblow, who at that moment was too distracted by his son’s condition to really pay attention.

Odin reached the balcony just as Hela’s eyes flashed dark and a wave of black left her blade and sliced towards Nal. Odin’s heart leapt into his throat as the wave hit Nal and she crumpled to the ground. He ran forwards and pulled her up, watching in horror as her hair turned white and her skin wrinkled and turned as grey as death.

****

Daianya woke from her sleep with a scream. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Tarah asked, leaping from her bed and stumbling to her side.

“Nal… Nal…” Daianya gasped. “Nal.” 

****

In a town just outside of the entrance to the cave that led to the Well of Mimir, Anima was leafing through her notes, reviewing what she’d learned so far, when she felt a wave of pure death slam into Nal. She yelped in pain and stamped her foot in defiance. “NO!” she screamed.

Loki looked up from his chair and reached out to take her hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Anima looked him in the eyes and grabbed his wrists. Loki yelped as she pulled power straight from him, leaving him breathless as she cast her restoration spell and send the whole thing down the link she shared with her sisters.

****

Odin’s scream of horror caught in his throat as a sudden flash of green magic swept through Nal’s body and she gasped in a huge gulp of air. He skin and hair restored itself in front of his eyes.

Anima, he realised. It had to be… the restoration spell she used to keep herself young… the link they shared… the power Anima could summon as a goddess… 

Nal gasped again and immediately turned to glare at where Hela stood, shocked.

“You are a monster,” she hissed. 

“Stop it,” Odin said, conscious of the crowd behind them. “Hela, I’ll talk to you later, Nal, I’m taking you to the healer’s rooms.”

He picked her up and walked toward the crowd. Nal scowled and wriggled in his arms. “I’m fine,” she said. “I feel fine.”

“Humour me,” Odin said as the crowd parted and let them through.

****

Tarah was hugging Daianya hard when a wave of magic shot through her body and making their hair stand on end. Tarah looked at Daianya in alarm. “What happened?” she asked as Daianya slumped against her. 

“Nal got hurt,” Daianya said, “Badly hurt. But Anima fixed it, she fixed it so fast.”

She turned to look at Tarah in the dim light. “Your hair looks like you’ve been shocked,” she said.

“Do you even want to know what yours look like?” Tarah said.

Daianya started laughing, but it was tinged with hysteria. Tarah reached out and hugged her tightly as her laughter turned to tears.

“It’s alright,” she said. “You said Anima fixed it, it’s alright.”

“I know,” Daianya said. “But it was so fast, and it hurt. My heart hurt, my joints hurt. I felt her die!”

“Die?” Tarah asked. “She _died?”_

Daianya nodded and hugged Tarah tightly. “If Anima had been even the tiniest bit slower Nal wouldn’t have been able to be brought back. She shocked life back into her whole body at once,” Daianya said. “It was so close, that kind of death, it was so fast. It was Hela.”

“Hela?” Tarah repeated. “Hela tried to kill Nal?”

Daianya looked over at her. “She did,” she said darkly, “And she won’t be forgiven, not by me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was idly looking through random artwork online that people have done and stumbled upon this. It is not in any way affiliated with this story, but if I had any artistic talent at all then this is how I would have drawn Nal.
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/toxicteardrops/art/The-Jotun-307176583


	17. Monster

The Great Hall was clearing fast. People scrambled to get away from the disturbance on the balcony. Odin carried Nal through the dissipating crowd, heading for the far doors which led to the Healer’s Rooms.

“Put me down,” Nal protested, wriggling harder.

Odin was forced to put her down to avoid dropping her. “I want you to be checked to make sure you are alright,” he said.

“I’m fine, Anima made sure of it,” Nal said. “Hela’s the one you need to deal with.”

Odin shook his head. “I will talk to Hela once I know that you are alright,” he said.

Behind him, Hela walked through the gateway of the balcony and paused for a moment. Nal glared at her over Odin’s shoulder. Hela dropped her eyes and turned away, heading for her rooms.

“Hela is unstable,” Nal said. “She can’t control herself! You saw what she did, if it had been anyone other than me or Daianya they would be dead right now. As it was I felt my soul start to leave my body, if Anima had been a second slower – ”

“I told you I will deal with this,” Odin said. “Hela’s been really good lately, she made a mistake – ”

“She murdered me!” Nal exclaimed.

The air in the Great Hall began to chill.

“You were fighting with her,” Odin said.

“So no one can stand up to her in case she kills them, but she’s still just ‘making mistakes’?” Nal snapped.

Unseen by either of them, Bor stepped back out from where he’d been ushering people away and walked quietly toward the throne, listening closely.

“I’ve been working with her and Hela has been showing progress,” Odin protested.

“She’s a monster,” Nal said. “She’s cancer and, if left unchecked, she will kill us all.”

“She wasn’t the only one with a sword in her hand,” Odin said, his voice rising.

“She drew first!” Nal snapped.

Bor glanced down at the throne as a sound caught his attention. Frost was forming across the golden arms of the chair. He turned to look across the Hall. More frost was forming on the pillars and over the tables.

“Hela is your sister,” Odin yelled, “You – ”

“Hela is your daughter,” Nal snapped back, “She is _not_ my sister.”

Odin roared wordlessly, Nal screamed at him in retaliation.

The wine in the glasses and jugs froze solid, Bor raised an eyebrow as the liqueur, even with its high alcohol content, began to do the same. The air was freezing now and his breath was thick white mist as he breathed out.

“I will not have you disrespect my decisions!” Odin yelled. “Hela is my responsibility and she will learn to be a good queen!”

“Hela is a monster from the darkest depths of evil whose only enjoyment is to end other peoples’ lives!” Nal shouted back. “She will never make a good queen, she will always break, and falter, and make mistakes. Everyone who has ever met her can see it except for you! I don’t know if it’s because you are the God of War and feel driven to win every battle but this one is unwinnable!” 

“That’s enough!” Odin roared.

“Hela will destroy Asgard and everything in it! She’s a cancer on this world! And if you can’t see that then she’ll be the end of you too!” Nal screamed. 

“You don’t know what you are talking about!” Odin yelled.

“I know exactly what I am talking about!” Nal said. “But you never listen to me!”

There was a cracking sound from above their heads. Odin looked up and watched in horror as the arched dome above their heads broke apart under the strain of the extreme cold that filled the air. The dome had been painted with victories of King Buri and Crown Prince Bor, and now, damaged beyond its tolerances, it began to fall. 

Odin ran forwards and scooped Nal up, he fled down the length of the Great Hall, dodging chairs and skidding on ice as the ceiling caved. The falling plasterwork of the dome was only the start of a chain reaction in which the entire ceiling fell, one painted panel after another, crushing tables and cracking flooring as it slammed down to the ground below. Odin reached the far doors and leapt into them, turning so as to take the force against his back and shielding Nal from the impact. He crashed straight through them as though they were nothing, and the wood shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, the fibre connections already broken by the cold.

They landed in the corridor outside the Great Hall seconds before the last of the roof hit the ground with crash that echoed throughout the palace.

Odin stared at the destruction in shock and horror. The Great Hall was filled with rubble, the stone pillars were cracked with cold damage, and the golden throne of Asgard had exploded. Golden shards were embedded all around were the throne had been.

Odin turned to look at Nal.

“You speak of Hela being a monster, of being out of control, when you can’t even control yourself,” he snapped. “You are so certain you are fine? Prove it, go to the Healers’ Rooms and get yourself checked, then go to you room and stay there. You are no better than you sister, in fact you might be worse.”

Nal glared at him, then turned on her heel and stormed away from him. Odin turned back to the destruction and sagged. 

“Well,” said King Bor from somewhere among the dust and snow, “Now we know what the power of a Jotun king looks like.”

He limped out of the doorway. One of the golden shards from the throne was embedded in his leg.

“Father,” Odin said, stepping forwards.

“You seem upset,” Bor said, looking back at the destruction. “I can’t say I’m happy about the Great Hall, but can you imagine sending her into battle?”

“You can’t be serious,” Odin said, stepping under his father’s arm and taking his weight. “She could have killed both of us.”

“And Hela did kill her,” Bor said. “She’s not wrong, my son, Hela lost control and killed a family member. If Nal had stayed dead then Hela would be in the dungeons as we speak with no appeal.”

“She’s been doing so well,” Odin said.

“Not well enough,” Bor replied.

“One more chance,” Odin said to him. “Just one, I’ll find a way to help her.”

Bor sighed heavily. “Son, when I’m gone you can do what you like, and if you insist on Hela being your heir then I won’t be here to stop you, but have some sense. After the Vanaheim trip I want Daianya to start shadowing both of us as we do the work of the realm, and I want a way to tie her here officially. Is there a boy she likes? Someone she’s close enough to consider marriage with? As long as she remains free there will be offers, I’m expecting another one from Dimcken after this visit and I have no good reason to refuse.”

Odin sighed deeply. “I don’t know of anyone,” he said, helping his father up the stairs. “I don’t want to give up on Hela.”

“You’re the only one left who feels that way,” Bor said bluntly. “Hela’s worth is on the battlefield, as long as we remain at peace there is no role for her in Asgard. I want you to prepare her for the idea that she will not be the next ruler after you.”

They reached the landing and Odin nodded sadly. “Yes, Father, I will talk to her,” he said.

****

Hela reached her rooms and shut the door, panic rising in her chest. She’d done it again. She’d summoned a wave of pure death and this time it had hit something important.

Not that Hela had any feelings of remorse about Nal in particular, but the rest of the family seemed to like her, well, Daianya and Anima did anyway, and Loki had once threatened Hela not to hurt her sisters or there would be consequences so he probably liked her too.

But even worse than that, Hela had ruined all her hard work. She’d been trying hard for _years_ to be the princess and future queen her father wanted her to be. She’d said all the right things, made fair decisions – at least, Odin had said they were fair, Hela had just been guessing half the time – and been on her best behaviour whenever he was looking, and in a single moment she’d ruined it all.

Nal had called her a monster, well, maybe she was, but until she was queen no one else was supposed to find out.

Hela paced the room, wringing her hands with worry. There would be punishment; it would be severe, severe enough to be concerned about? Would she be locked in the dungeons? Disinherited?

Hela growled under her breath and kicked the leg of one of her chairs. If the King disinherited her over _Nal_ of all people then she wouldn’t take it without protest. No one cared about Jotnir anyway, Nal was the least liked of the princesses.

Except maybe Hela herself

Hela growled again and threw herself into a chair, only to rise a second later and start pacing again.

It was Nal’s fault anyway. She was the one who started the name calling; Hela was just standing up for herself. Everyone with any sense should know not to antagonise her. Nal had it coming.

It was very doubtful anyone else would see it that way.

Hela made a noise of frustration and summoned an axe, then she hit the chair with it over and over again, slammed the blade down until the chair was nothing but fluff and wooden pieces, scattered across the floor.

Everything was ruined. Everything. Nal had ruined everything.

“Maybe I am a monster,” Hela said to herself, “But I don’t care.”

“I _don’t_ care”

****

Nal went to the healers with bad grace. She wanted to skip it entirely but Odin was still her father and he still gave her an order. She sat scowling as the healer examined her with trembling hands, ignoring the way the air slowly grew colder the longer she was there. Then, having been pronounced in perfect health, she stomped out and made her way up to her room.

‘Stay there’ he had said. For how long? Until he came and told her she could come out again? Would he ever remember that he’d ordered her to stay?

She reached her room and pulled off her dress angrily. It was ruined anyway. The cold had caused a lot of the fabric to snap randomly, and frankly she was surprised it was still as intact as it was.

She pulled on a nightdress and crawled into bed.

_“You speak of Hela being a monster, of being out of control, when you can’t even control yourself”_

That had hurt, and hurt all the more because it was true. Hela had not caused the Great Hall to collapse in on itself, Hela had not made the throne explode from the strain of the cold, Hela had not caused such destruction and fear.

Well, maybe the fear, Hela terrified people, but Nal was coming to the uncomfortable realisation that Hela wasn’t the only daughter of Odin who sparked fear in the people of Asgard, at least, not anymore. Nal had always been the overlooked one, the ‘stupid’ one, the _Jotun_ one.

Now what?

She didn’t want to be a monster, but the ever-present call of the cold was like a temptation she couldn’t ever fully shake.

Nal pulled her covers around herself until she was tucked into her own personal cocoon. 

Was this to be her legacy then? Was she not a goddess, but a monster? Was her destiny to give in to the cold and let the destruction come? 

“I should have gone hiking with Loki,” she said softly to her pillow.

 _“You’re not the one I’m afraid of”_ his voice echoed in her head.

“You should be,” Nal said. 

****

Anima sat in the chair, trembling all over as Loki tried to hold a glass of wine to her lips. 

“What happened?” he asked, “What did you do?”

“Nal… Nal died,” Anima said, still trembling too much to take the glass.

It almost fell from Loki’s hand as his mouth opened in shock. “No,” he whispered.

“I saved her,” Anima said. “Hela sent a wave of death and I countered it, I saved her, but it was so fast, it was less than a second. If I’d been asleep, if I’d been slower, even a little…”

“Nal is not dead?” Loki said to her.

Anima shook her head. “She’s fine, healthier than she’s ever been.”

Loki sagged against the side of the chair. “I would have led with that,” he said, before downing the wine himself.

“I used the regeneration spell,” Anima said. “Only I had to do it really fast _and_ send it down our link to Nal, and I needed so much magic.”

“That’s an incredibly complex spell to do on the fly, in fact I didn’t know you _could_ brute force a spell of that nature,” Loki said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you for your magic, I didn’t have time,” Anima said.

“I’ll live, and more importantly, so will Nal. Although that explains why I can’t feel any magic in the air around us, you took it all, didn’t you?” Loki said.

Anima nodded. “I owe the tavern owner a new set of anti-mice charms,” she said, nodding towards where the remains of the last set now sat in pieces.

“You sucked all the background magic out of the world,” Loki said. “That’s impressive, I mean, you’re the Goddess of Magic, but still.”

“I took it from Yggdrasil too, I took it from everywhere,” Anima said.

“Are you sure Nal’s alright?” Loki asked her.

“She’s furious,” Anima said, “She’s yelling at Father right now.”

“Oh dear,” Loki said.

“He’s yelling back,” Anima said. 

“Maybe I should duck back,” Loki said.

“You can’t, you’re out of magic and there’s none left in the background to borrow,” Anima said. “Now they’re running.”

“Why are they running?”

“Nal destroyed the throne room,” Anima said.

Loki raised both his eyebrows. “I’m impressed,” he said.

“Father isn’t,” Anima said, and then winced. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

“Said what?” Loki asked, suddenly alert.

Anima shook her head. “He’s so stubborn, and utterly blind to what he’s doing,” she said.

“What?” Loki asked. “Tell me, please. I’m nosy and I want to know things.”

Anima sighed heavily. “He said she was no better than Hela because she couldn’t control herself either.”

Loki scowled. “Nal is nothing like Hela,” he said. 

“I wish Father could see her as clearly as he sees his enemies,” Anima said. “He never fails to size them up correctly, but when it comes to Nal he can’t see past what she is to _who_ she is.”

“Should we turn back?” Loki asked.

Anima tilted her head. “Nal says no, she says enjoy the hike.”

“Tell her I shall continue as requested but that I shan’t enjoy it,” Loki said.


	18. Plots and Schemes

Frigga stood in a world covered in ice. She wrapped her arms around herself as she started shivering violently, before catching sight of her hands. Her right hand was calloused and scarred, a warrior’s hand. Her left hand was smooth and soft, a Lady’s hand. She looked at them in confusion.

“I want the sword hand,” she said.

“I want the Lady’s hand,” said her own voice at the same time. She spun around; looking for a clone or a trick, something, anything, but only saw snow. She began walking through it, kicking the drifts out of her way as she struggled to fight the cold.

She saw something in the distance and headed towards it, only to tumble forwards into a large hall filled with rubble and ice. All around the hall were plinths with crowns on them, starting with one made of rock and ending with one that had horns turned downward to shield the wearer’s face. The plinth next to it was empty, but there was a gold crown with raised horns and large wings sitting at the base.

Frigga knelt down to pick it up and watched as her sword hand began to fade into another Lady’s hand.

“No,” she said and dropped the crown.

“Fool,” said a voice behind her. 

She turned to see a woman with brown skin and blue eyes, wearing a green dress made of simple wool.

“To want to forge my own path?” Frigga asked.

“To deny, and deny again,” said the woman, still smiling. She gestured to the destruction around them. “Look what denial brings. He will deny the true path,” she said pointing at the crown with the downward horns. “He will deny the true path,” she pointed at the crown on the ground. “He will deny the true path,” now she pointed to a silver crown that Frigga swore hadn’t been there a moment ago. It had no horns, but two wings on either side of the domed helmet. 

“What true path?” Frigga asked. “Why do all my dreams come as riddles?”

The woman laughed. “When does life have a map to show you the way? But death has a path, and it will not be denied. Time and time again the crowns follow the path, but this will be the last, I think, at least for a while. The horns shall fall, the wings shall fly. And then we begin the dance again,” she said.

Frigga looked back at the crown on the ground. It radiated a feeling of strength.

“And when it begins again, who’s crown shall be first?” she asked, turning back to face the woman.

Now there were other crowns floating around her, dipping in and out of view. One looked like a battered helmet, one like antlers covered in vines and flowers, one was the silver one with the wings, one was copper and had high, sweeping horns, and one was black and radiated evil.

“Shall we choose?” asked the woman. “Or shall we leave it up to Yggdrasil?”

Frigga reached out and gently touched the silver helmet as it floated by. “This feels wrong,” she said. So did the copper one, the black one she did not even try to touch, the battered helmet felt heavy like a duty, and the antlers – 

Frigga drew her hand back with a scream of pain. The antlers were so cold they burned the skin from her hand.

“What is that?” she gasped, cradling her hand.

“Anger,” said the woman. “Hurt. Fear.”

“I don’t understand,” Frigga said.

The woman shook her head sadly. “She is angry, he is hurtful, and you fear her.”

Frigga backed away uncertainly. “I don’t fear anyone,” she said.

“You will,” said the woman and vanished.

Frigga opened her eyes and stared up into the darkness; another dream, and so soon after the last one. Something much be happening, a crossroads, a choice, but what choice? Why did her dreams always have to be so difficult to decipher?

****

Hela was sitting at her table tapping her fingers with nervousness when Odin knocked on her door. She rose and let him in, unable to look him in the eye.

“Have you come to take me to the dungeons?” she asked.

“No,” Odin said softly. “Hela, what you did was very serious. Were it not for Anima’s magic, Nal would have died, at your hand.”

“I know,” Hela said. “I didn’t mean it, I got angry and then the wave just rose up and then it was already out and I couldn’t stop it.”

Odin nodded. “You are a very powerful god, even more so than I realised, which is why controlling yourself is so important.”

“The servant who brought me supper said Nal destroyed the Great Hall,” Hela said.

Odin nodded slowly. “That is true, but we are not talking about Nal.”

Hela looked down again. “I’ve been trying so hard,” she said. “I’ve followed your around and listened to everything you say. I advised mercy at the last court hearings for that trader woman. I said she _shouldn’t_ be killed for stealing that silver.”

Odin nodded. “I know, and I’m very proud of your efforts, I am. So let’s talk about what happened. When you felt the urge rise within you, did you fight it? Did you try?”

Hela looked up into his eyes. “Yes,” she lied. “It happened so quickly it just spilled out.”

Odin stared at her for a long second, but Hela held a steady gaze.

“You will need to be punished,” Odin said. “You will need to apologise to Nal for what happened.”

“You’re not giving up on me?” Hela asked.

She wanted to ask if he was planning to disinherit her, but even Hela could see that the question wouldn’t go down well at this exact moment.

“No, Daughter, I am not giving up on you,” Odin said. “I have two daughters with… volatile personalities, but I know that you are both good people who just have to try harder to control yourselves when you feel angry or upset.”

Hela smiled at him. “I really will try, Father.”

“But make no mistake, Hela, if you can’t get yourself under control then I will have no choice but to choose another heir to the throne,” Odin warned. “Asgard cannot have a ruler who loses control the way you did, what if you had hit the people watching on the balcony? Anima couldn’t have brought them back.”

Hela bowed her head again. “I know, Father, I will work harder than ever to prove to you that I can remain in control,” she said.

Odin smiled and pulled her into a hug. Hela returned it, relieved that, for now at least, it appeared to be over.

“I love you, my daughter,” he said.

“I love you too, Father,” Hela lied.

He left her alone for the night. Hela’s tentative smile vanished the moment the door was shut. She scowled deeply and stalked to her bed, reminding herself that she didn’t have to maintain this stupid façade forever, only until she had the crown.

Odin was still a youngish man though, and just the thought of waiting patiently through thousands of years was draining.

Hela lay on her back, stared up at the ceiling and weighed her options.

Odin had four heirs, but no one would actually want a Jotun or a Mortal on the throne of Asgard, that was ridiculous, so the only real competition was Daianya. Bor was old now, not _ancient_ but old enough to wait out. If Odin and Daianya were both dead before Bor’s time to die passed then Hela was the only logical choice.

Of course killing both Odin and Daianya would be difficult, unless it happened at the same time in some kind of accident. Bifrost accident? The mechanism was fairly robust but a small amount of tampering at the right time might be enough.

Or maybe poison? Something in the wine? Everyone already knew Hela couldn’t die so if she poisoned something on the royal family’s table then everyone but her would die and then she’d be the undisputed queen, unless Anima’s spell also worked on poisons. 

Damn 

Hela scowled at the ceiling and huffed in annoyance. She’d have to find out more about how the spell worked. Odin said Anima couldn’t have saved anyone watching on the balcony if they had been hit, but that might be because she wasn’t physically there to see them get hurt, not because she actually _needed_ that damn sisterly bond in order to save someone.

Hela hated research. She hated most books and endless learning. She longed for battle and death. But if she wanted to ensure that she was queen one day, then she was going to have to head to the library.

****

The next morning on Vanaheim Daianya, Tarah and Frigga were all looking worse for wear.

“Didn’t sleep?” Norah asked them hopefully.

Tarah shot her a warning look and shook her head. “Daianya’s sister was hurt last night,” she said. “She’s alright now but it was close.”

Norah at once turned sympathetic. “Who was it?” she asked as the others turned to listen.

“Nal,” Daianya said. “Hela killed her, but Anima saved her.”

“Killed her?” Haewkyr repeated. “As in, ended her life?”

Daianya nodded. “I felt her soul start to leave her body,” she said. “It was fighting to stay and then Anima brought her body back to life so it… reattached.”

“Scary,” Haewkyr said. “And Hela is now… on trial?”

“No,” Daianya said darkly. “Nal says she has received an apology letter with her breakfast, but she doesn’t trust it.”

“Do you still want to climb down the falls today?” Norbleen asked her.

Daianya gave herself a shake. “Yes. Yes I do. Nal is fine; she’s healthier than she’s ever been thanks to the spell. Hela is at least being watched more closely by Father. I’m ruining the mood so let’s get past that and back to having fun.”

“Are you sure?” Tarah asked her quietly. “You don’t have to pretend.”

Daianya smiled at her; they were only six inches apart. Norah gripped Tiree’s arm under the table.

“I’m sure,” she said. “We face death in battle all the time, Nal is fine enough to be angry at the world, so I need to let it go, at least until I get home.”

Tarah nodded and turned back to her breakfast. Norah sagged in her chair and rolled her eyes back in frustration.

On the other side of the bench, Haewkyr nudged Frigga. “Are you alright? You look almost as tired as Princess Daianya.”

Frigga smiled a perfect courtly smile. “I am well,” she said.

“Liar,” Haewkyr said easily.

“I had a dream,” Frigga said.

Instantly he was serious. “What did you see?” he asked.

“Nothing that made sense,” Frigga told him. “They never make sense until afterwards, but I think I have a choice to make, and I think it’s going to have further reaching consequences than it first appears.”

“Is that choice to follow your heart?” Heawkyr asked, “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been worrying about that a lot lately.”

Frigga used her fork to play with her eggs. “I think I have to know my heart to follow it,” she said. “And I’m not certain that I really do.”

****

The bottom of the gorge where the waterfall landed echoed so loudly they had to wear ear protection until they had hiked far enough away from it. The river was large and deep, and perfect for swimming. The group spent hours diving and swimming and splashing in the water. Daianya managed to relax after a while, and took great delight in stalking Dorgen under the water and pulling him under by his legs. He tried to get her back but she was too good a swimmer.

“I’m going to practice my swimming every day until I can catch you,” he declared.

“I accept your challenge,” she called back.

Norbleen and Haewkyr walked a little further down the trail before coming back and leading everyone to an area where the cliffs narrowed again, creating some ideal diving spots.

“I’ve always loved swimming,” Kinndyr said to Frigga as they splashed about, “But what I like even more than swimming is mazes. My family has a maze, the largest in the realm.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Frigga said with a smile. 

“I’d be happy to take you on a private tour?” he offered.

Frigga almost refused him on principle, but despite her mother’s plans he wasn’t actually a bad man.

“That sounds lovely,” she said.

A private tour was hardly a marriage proposal, after all.

Almost without meaning to, she looked down at her hands. They were smooth and without scars, but there was a small callous from her sword practices that stopped them from being a true lady’s hands.

Perhaps, if her mother blocked her efforts to become a shield maiden, she could run away to Asgard and join the Valkyrie. Change her name and join the ranks, and never set foot in Vanaheim again.

‘I am my Father’s daughter,’ Frigga thought, ‘No matter what Mother says about him. He had courage, and strength, and he was brave and noble. So he fell and never came home, so he left us in debt and left us to go through hardship, but I remember him as a person and he was kind and he loved me. Mother may have forgotten but I haven’t.’

“Frigg, pay attention, you’re drifting!” Haewkyr called, bringing her back to the world around her. She kicked her legs and swam back to the main group.

“Lost in thought,” she said.

“If you go too far and end up in the tunnel, we won’t wait for you,” Dorgen reminded her seriously.

“My thoughts weren’t so deep I’d miss the tunnel entrance looming up at me, don’t worry,” Frigga said.

**** 

Thrym walked through the icy halls of the Jotunheim palace and stopped at the King’s reception area. King Grundroth was in his throne, glaring at the man in front of him with annoyance.

“And then what happened?” he asked.

“And then he attacked me, and I fought back – as well I should – and then he tripped and landed on the cutter and his head came off,” said the man.

Grundroth rolled his eyes. “There were no witnesses, so you can go, but you can’t have your old job. Those cutters are supposed to have guards on them which you ‘accidently’ left up, or so I’m sure. Get out.”

The man fled. Grundroth caught sight of Thrym and gestured for him to approach.

“What news do you have for me?” he asked.

“Three more men wish to try the Cave of King’s,” Thrym said. “They humbly request that you see them off.”

“When am I free?” Grundroth asked his secretary.

“You have time in three days hence, just after lunch,” said the man.

“Fine, in three days I will see them off,” Grundroth said. “Is that all?”

Thrym hesitated, but then pressed on. “May I speak with you privately, your Grace,” he asked.

Grundroth waved him closer with one hand, and everyone else away with the other. Thrym approached the throne and knelt down so that they could speak softly.

“I was wondering if it might be possible to review Laufey’s case,” he began.

Grundroth instantly scowled. “No,” he said. “I have made up my mind and I will not be moved. Honestly Thrym, he failed me in the worst possible way, Princess Nal never should have been allowed to venture far enough into the Cave to get hurt.”

“She survived,” Thrym reminded him. “She knew what she was doing.”

“I don’t believe so,” Grundroth said. Thrym’s eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“A woman always knows what she is doing,” he said, echoing the lessons taight to him by his own mother so many years ago.

“Not one who has been raised in Asgard, by Asgardians,” Grundroth said. “I could have taught her so much had she remained here, but Laufey ruined everything. I would have sentenced him to death were it not for how many of his brothers live at my court.”

As theirs was the most recent mother to die, the sons of Morag made up approximately a third of Grundroth’s court. The number would slowly dwindle as they aged and as other men from fallen strongholds joined them, but for now they remained a powerful faction.

Thrym frowned openly. “What he did is not execution worthy,” he protested.

“I say it is, and I am the king,” Grundroth snapped. “Or do you choose to stand against me?”

“How can I? You are my king,” Thrym said, bowing his head. “You have conquered the Cave, and I have not.”

“Then say no more about this,” Grundroth said. “Laufey will serve until the end of his days. My decision is final.”

Thrym backed away with his head bowed. Grundroth’s grudge was worse than he’d thought.

“Raolr, when news have you?” Grundroth asked as Thrym turned away.

“Your Grace, news from Asgard of a most extraordinary nature,” Raolr said. “My spies have reported that Princess Nal destroyed the Great Hall of Asgard with a wave of ice.”

Grundroth straightened in his chair as Thrym stopped and turned.

“A wave of ice?” Grundroth said, “A solid wave?”

“We do not yet have a full report, only the rumours that have filtered out of the palace,” Raolr said, “But it appears that in her anger she did destroy the Great Hall, even cracked the pillars.”

“That’s impossible,” Thrym said before he could stop himself, “Even a king has never done that.”

“Perhaps a king has never had the opportunity,” Grundroth said, but he looked rattled. “Find out as much as you can. I want to know everything she does, everyone she talks to. Princess Nal belongs in Jotunheim and until she is back here where we can protect and cherish her she is in danger from those who fear our kind.”

“My spies will gather what they can,” Raolr promised with a bow.

****

“A wave of ice?” Laufey repeated.

“That’s what the Spymaster said,” said his brother, Corldyr. “I was serving the wine at the time and heard everything. The reports say she cracked the pillars.”

“Were they thin, decorative ones or really thick load-bearing ones?” Laufey asked.

“I don’t know, he didn’t say, but I think load-bearing, because he sounded impressed,” Corldyr said.

Laufey leaned back in thought. “She’s conquered the Cave of Kings, so I know she must be strong, and powerful,” he said after a minute, “I did not realise how powerful. With power like that she may even take Grundroth down herself.”

“She never would though,” Friosten, another of Laufey’s brothers, said. “She got out of here as fast as she could and she’s not come back for even a day to visit. She’s his heir by law and custom, but she doesn’t want the job.”

Laufey nodded sadly. “I know. Grundroth ruined everything. Instead of showing her the beauty of our world he tried to trap her in it.”

“Three more men plan to try the Cave,” Corldyr said.

Laufey chuckled. “They won’t survive.”

“What if they do? Then they’ll be Grundroth’s heir as well, and Princess Nal isn’t going to fight them for it when the time comes,” Friosten said.

Laufey gave his brother an encouraging smile. “They won’t survive because if they do manage to come out of it as his heir then I will kill them,” he said. “When the time comes and Grundroth dies, there will be no heir but Nal. She will have no choice but to return to Jotunheim because she will not want to cause a civil war, of this I am certain. Once she is here we will show her that she does not have to hate this place.”

“Killing the heir to the throne is only one step away from killing the king himself,” Corldyr said, “And it carries the same punishment.”

“I am already the most hated member of this cursed court,” Laufey said. “I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I am not worried. Thank you for the information, Brother, and keep me informed of any developments. Together we shall make this court one worthy of a woman like Princess Nal.”


	19. The Centre of Asgard

The next morning Anima and Loki made their way to the entrance of Mimir’s cave. It was a squat, unimpressive cave with several large boulders all around which were covered in moss and looked as though they had not moved in millennia.

“So you’re just going to walk down there until you reach the halfway mark?” Loki confirmed doubtfully. 

“That’s the plan,” Anima said confidently. “You aren’t scared are you?”

Loki scoffed. “Of course not, why would I be scared of a dark, narrow, cave filled with vision-magic with no affiliation for either good or evil that’ll drive you mad if you aren’t mentally strong enough to handle it?”

“Don’t fall in and you’ll be fine,” Anima said, walking forwards without hesitation.

Loki sighed dramatically and followed her. “I’d be less… _cautious_ if my magic was back,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Anima said.

“I’m not, Nal’s life is far more important than me having magic, but it’s still a strange feeling,” Loki said. “I felt a little in the air when I woke this morning, but my own is barely recovered.”

“They’ll be a lot of magic down near the Well,” Anima said. “If you really need to you can grab some.”

“Did you hear me when I said ‘vision-magic with no affiliation for either good or evil that’ll drive you mad if you aren’t mentally strong enough to handle it?” Loki asked.

“Yes, but that just means emergencies only,” Anima said.

She entered the cave; Loki had to duck to follow her. Together they began to walk down the pathway that led to the Well of Mimir.

“How is Nal this morning?” Loki asked as they began the trek downwards.

“Still angry, and sad, she’s sad, but she won’t admit it,” Anima said, “And scared.”

“Of Hela?” Loki asked.

“Of herself,” Anima said. “All Hela can do is kill her, Hela can’t touch her soul, or make her hurt other people, but when she lost her temper she lost control and she affected the whole world around her. She’s normally so good at keeping her anger and frustration from harming people, but this time she failed.”

Loki looked serious as he navigated a tricky point in the path. “She’s powerful, Goddess-level powerful, but even I have no idea of what. I would have said Goddess of Winter had she not told me that she met Hodr down in the Cave of Kings on Jotunheim.”

“And killed him,” Anima said, “Easily.”

They hiked on for an hour, ducking under low-hanging rock and climbing over uneven ground. Loki held a torch, purchased that morning, as he had previously been planning to use magic to light his way. Anima had no such difficulty, calling on Yggdrasil to make up for what had been lost from the world around them.

After an hour the magic in the air began to increase, and they both began moving more cautiously. 

“According to the scrolls, the Well ought to be just up ahead,” Anima said.

“Just stay well back from the water,” Loki warned. “Don’t be tempted to go for a swim.”

“Do you doubt the strength of my mind?” Anima asked him.

“Honestly? No. But you have a mortal body and I’m not sure that it wouldn’t drown while you were gaining the knowledge of the universe, and I’m not convinced that _I_ have the mental strength to pull you out,” he said.

“I’ve never heard you admit to a weakness before,” Anima said.

“I’m working on a new strategy where I open up more to the people I care about,” Loki said.

“How’s it going?” Anima asked.

“Terribly, I already regret telling you what I have.”

“Why the change?” Anima asked. “It wouldn’t have something to do with Nal refusing to play your usual games would it?”

Loki hesitated a fraction of a second, had Anima not been watching for it she would have missed it.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Loki said.

“We’re connected _fairly_ closely, Uncle Loki, and none of us are stupid,” Anima said.

“I admire her,” Loki admitted. “She’s powerful, and confident, and those are traits worth admiring, not to mention that she’s a Jotun woman, I mean, it’s built in that I’d want to – ”

“Seduce her?”

“Ensure she had worthy suitors,” Loki said. “Jotun women do not stay with only one man.”

“So the fact that she’s been spending a lot of time with Scyth doesn’t bother you?” Anima asked.

“It does, but only because I don’t think he’s worthy,” Loki said. “He’s… annoying.”

“So not at all like you then?” Anima teased as they rounded the corner.

They both paused at the sight before them.

“Is this it?” Anima asked.

“It’s a pool of water deep underground and surrounded by powerful magic,” Loki said. “I really hope so.”

There’s a tunnel on the far side, come on,” Anima said.

They made their way carefully around the edge of the pool. The water lapped against the stone from a current they couldn’t see.

“I wonder what happens if you drink it?” Loki asked.

“Probably visions,” Anima said. There was a crunch from behind her. “Are you eating?!” she asked in disbelief.

“It’s an apple,” Loki said as though it made a difference. “I put it in the Eternal Flame and now it keeps regenerating. Do you want some?”

“No thank you,” Anima said and pushed on.

The tunnel on the far side continued downwards, but it was immediately obvious that it was not a well-travelled path. The path that led to the Well of Mimir had had rough spots, but was ultimately clear, _this_ path was filled with debris and jutting outcrops. At one point the path ended in a cave-in, and Anima had to summon magic from Yggdrasil to push the rock back and out of their way.

The air grew stuffy and even Anima’s magical light seemed to become hemmed in by darkness instead of reaching out far ahead of them like it had in the beginning.

“Are we there yet?” Loki asked softly.

“Almost,” Anima said.

Crunch

“Do you really have to keep eating that?”

“It calms me down,” Loki said, but he put the apple away.

“A few dozen metes and we should reach the halfway point,” Anima said.

They pushed on, climbing down awkwardly over fallen rocks, past thick veins of minerals and metals that had remained untouched since Asgard’s forming, until at last they drew close to their goal.

Anima stopped walking as she saw what was in front of her. Loki almost walked into her but managed to stop in time. He frowned in confusion as Anima spoke.

“Is that… a tomb?” she asked.

“It certainly looks like one,” Loki said. “Carved doorway, blocked with stone, ominous feeling radiating out of it, yeah, that’s a tomb.”

“Who would be buried down here?” Anima wondered, creeping closer.

Loki held his torch up and examined the carvings around the door. “Someone very disliked,” he said at last. “Says here they were buried alive for failing to do their duty, and that the only escape was to accept what they had refused to do.”

“That’s terrifying,” Anima said. “Does it name them?”

Loki scanned the runes again. “I don’t think so, but this bit here is very worn and damaged by cracking, so it might have said once.”

Anima ran a scanner over the runes, taking a record for later, before stepping back. “Stand back,” She said.

“You’re going to open it?” Loki asked.

“I’m less than three metres from the halfway point, it looks like this tomb was built at the very centre of Asgard,” Anima said. “So unless you want me to start digging out here, I’m going to open the doors.”

“Exact centre?” Loki repeated.

“Yes, Mimir’s Well is very close to the geographical centre of Asgard, and we’ve travelled over that last few hundred metres and down almost halfay. Whoever this person was, they were important enough to be placed in the exact centre, which is perfect for my research,” Anima said.

“Important, or hated,” Loki said softly as Anima held her hands up.

The doors began to glow faintly and then they shifted outwards, opening up a small gap just big enough for them to squeeze through.

“I’ll just do my tests and take my samples, and then we’ll leave this person in peace,” Anima said.

“Let me go first,” Loki said quickly, “Just in case there’s a curse or something.”

“You want to go ahead of the Goddess of Magic, in case someone has put a magical curse on this tomb?” Anima asked him.

Loki paused for a second.

“Yes,” he said at last.

“Fine, I can’t detect anything anyway,” Anima said.

He walked inside, followed by Anima. Unlike the doorways, the tomb itself was uncarved, and consisted of a large cave with a rough dome and a very uneven floor.

“This is it, I’m going to start taking samples,” Anima said, crouching down and scratching away at the surface rubble.

Loki nodded and made his way quietly towards the centre of the tomb, where before him lay a skeleton. The bones of what had once been, presumably, a god was lying spread-eagled with its arms and legs splayed outwards at wide angles; an uncomfortable position for anyone. Its hands and feet were encased in rock, which would have acted as manacles in life. 

“Hello friend,” Loki said softly. “So you’re the one who didn’t want to play the game. I wonder why?”

He frowned and held the torch closer to the skull. He’d thought that it had been smashed or crushed by a falling rock, as it was very much not intact, but closer examination revealed that it had melted.

“I seem to recall a story about a snake with wickedly acidic venom,” Loki said out loud.

“What was that?” Anima called. “I’m almost done.”

Loki backed away from the skeleton, slowly casting his eyes all around him, trying to spot the remains of what had caused the damage. 

“Anima, darling, sweetheart, Puppy, I think we need to get going,” he said, backing up further until he was by her side.

“I’m done,” Anima said. “Is that the owner of the tomb?”

“Yes, yes it is, and I think we ought to leave them here in peace,” Loki said.

Anima frowned in confusion. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Oh, you know, just me being cautious,” Loki said.

There was a sound from above them. Anima clutched her bag more tightly to her as Loki slowly raised his torch up higher.

A pair of very large green eyes was staring down at them. A strand of venom dripped down between them and hissed as it hit the rocks by their feet.

“It’s still alive,” Loki said. “I’m guessing background magic.”

The snake gave a loud hiss and dove downwards, Anima jumped one way and Loki the other.

“Get out of here!” Loki yelled, waving his torch about in an effort to draw the snake’s attention.

“Get to me and I’ll teleport us out!” Anima yelled back, scrambling over the rocks towards the door.

The snake turned at the sound of her voice and dove towards her, spitting acid in front of it. Anima yelped and vanished, teleporting away a split second before the acid hit where she had been.

She reappeared in the grounds of the palace and let out a scream. Within seconds there were guards by her side. 

“Father, I need Father!” she screamed. “Uncle Loki is in trouble!”

 _Where is he?_ Nal thought in her head. _Calm down, or you won’t be able to get back to him._

Anima blinked and reappeared in Nal’s bedroom, where her sister was in the middle of repotting a plant. “He’s trapped underground with a giant snake and he doesn’t have enough magic to get out and I was going to take him but the snake spat and then I got away but he’s still down there and – ”

“Breath. Now. Deep breath in. Let it out,” Nal commanded. “You can summon enough magic to almost anything, you certainly have the power to blast a snake to pieces, now _calm your mind,_ we are going back to get Loki.”

Nal reached out and took Anima’s hands. Anima did as she was told, breathing in deeply and trying to remain calm.

A moment later, they disappeared in a flash of light.

They reappeared in the tomb in total darkness. Nal immediately crouched down, pulling Anima with her. The snake was moving around rapidly, hissing in anger and rubbing against the rocks as it searched for its lost prey.

 _I can’t hear Loki anywhere, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s smart enough not to make a sound,_ Nal thought. _Summon a spell, something destructive. When the snake gets close you can destroy it._

Anima clung to her sister in the darkness. Nal was steady and always kept her head in dangerous situations. Anima… didn’t. She had always been the type to panic without someone to keep her calm.

She drew on Yggdrasil’s power and waited as the snake slithered its way back around to where they were. 

_It’s almost above us,_ Nal thought. _Almost, wait for it… NOW,_

Anima threw her spell upwards at where she thought the snake was. Its hiss of pain told her that she’d hit the mark and it immediately began pulling away from them. Anima summoned more power and threw it after the retreating snake. There was a sound of impact, then a much larger one of the snake hitting the ground.

“Light,” Nal whispered.

Anima summoned some light and they slowly crept closer to where the snake now lay.

“Can you freeze it?” Anima whispered.

Nal frowned at her.

“If you freeze it I can blow it into tiny pieces,” Anima said. “Then it’ll be dead for sure.”

“It’s got a giant hole in its skull,” Nal said. “It’s dead.”

Anima looked again. “I suppose so,” she conceded.

“Loki!” Nal called out, making Anima jump and glance warily at the body of the snake. It didn’t move.

“Loki!” Nal called again. “Anima, can you increase the light?”

Anima concentrated and the tomb lit up almost as bright as day. Nal climbed over the rocks, scanning the crevasses for signs of Loki. Anima began moving boulders with a sense of unease, but his body was not under any of them.

“He’s gone,” Anima said.

“Unless…” Nal trailed off awkwardly and looked across at the snake.

“You think it _ate_ him?” Anima asked, horrified.

“Only one way to find out,” Nal said, summoning an ice blade.

She dragged the blade across the snake’s belly with an effort. The scales did part, but only with great effort, and the flesh beneath was just as tough.

“Can you split it with magic?” Nal asked Anima.

Anima had gone pale and looked like she was going to vomit.

“On second thought, maybe you should take us home and get Father to do this bit,” Nal said. “He’s got the strength, and Loki probably isn’t even in there, he’s hard to kill after all.”

“Then where is he?” Anima said in a shaky voice. “He didn’t have enough magic to teleport, not after last night, and the magic around here is very unstable.”

“Well, unstable or not, I’m sure if his other choice was getting eaten by a snake then he would have risked it, come on, let’s get back and tell Father, he’ll know what to do,” Nal said.

Anima reached out and took a hold of her sister. It took her a few seconds to get her mind right, and then they were back in the grounds of the palace again.

The guards had done as asked while they’d been gone and informed Odin that his panicked youngest daughter needed to speak with him. He arrived with King Bor at his side just as they appeared.

“Anima, what’s happened?” he asked with concern in his eyes.

“Uncle Loki and I were attacked by a giant snake,” Anima said.

“On a hike?” Odin asked, confused.

“We hiked underground, past the Well of Mimir, and found an ancient tomb with a giant snake in it,” Anima said. “And I teleported away but Uncle Loki didn’t, and we went back and killed the snake but he wasn’t there and I’m worried that something has happened to him.”

“We will talk about the destination of your hike later, I’ll go and see if I can find Loki,” Odin said.

“No you won’t,” said Bor. “Loki can take care of himself, and if he can’t then it’s no great loss. You, Granddaughter, will come inside and tell us about this tomb and this snake. Are you certain that you killed it?”

Anima looked as though she was going to protest, but Odin got there first. “Father, Loki is my brother!”

“Blood brother,” Bor corrected, “And I have made my decision.”

“What if he’s hurt?” Anima asked. “We can’t leave him down there?”

“Did you search for him after you killed the snake?” Bor asked.

“Yes, but – ”

“Then he either got out or he’s dead, either way there’s no rush to go and find him,” Bor said, “Come along and tell us everything. I didn’t even know there was a pathway past the Well of Mimir.”

He led the way back into the palace. Anima looked as though she was going to argue but Odin spoke first. 

“He’s not wrong,” he said, “Loki is good at surviving. If he got out he’ll be back soon enough and if he didn’t… well, we’ll know in a few days I’m sure.”

Anima scowled and stomped off after Bor, Odin by her side. Nal was left standing on the grass alone as the guards went back to their stations. Odin hadn’t said a word about her leaving her room before he told her to, and it occurred to her that he might have already forgotten that he gave her the order in the first place.


	20. Eternal Apples

Less than an hour later, Odin teleported to the Cave entrance that led to the Well of Mimir. Anima’s account had entertained King Bor, but worried Odin. Loki was fantastically good at surviving but he wasn’t invincible, Odin had seen him suffer some quite serious injuries in the past that proved it, and so as soon as he was able to slip away without notice he went to go and look for his blood brother.

He hiked down to the Well as quickly as he could. He would have liked to teleport directly to the tomb but he didn’t know exactly where it was, and besides, Anima could withstand magical pressures beyond even Odin’s great skill, he didn’t wholly trust that if he tried to reach the tomb with magic that it wouldn’t harm him.

It took him another few hours to hike down, past the Well and through the tunnel beyond. Odin had visited the Well once before, to witness one of the seers partake of the waters; he had not seen the further tunnel tucked away at the back, and from the sound of it most people hadn’t.

He reached the tomb entrance and held his torch up high. The runes were carved deeply into the rock, as though the carver wanted to be sure the story was never forgotten. The person in the tomb had been buried alive to suffer until they ‘walked the path Yggdrasil chose for them’. Odin had no idea what that meant, but it implied the occupant had been some kind of god.

He squeezed through the open door and walked on silent feet into the tomb of the unknown god. It was quiet and still, although there was a smell that indicated something had died recently. A few more steps and Odin was able to confirm that it was the snake. He looked over the skull of the beast with an impressed look on his face. A blast of magic had blown a hole clean through it.

He walked the length of its body, noting the place where it had been sliced in an attempt to get inside. He drew his own sword and placed the torch securely on a nearby rock.

With his nose screwed up against the smell as much as possible, he began to slice into the beast, cutting through hard flesh and muscles like stone. He had to use magic to resharpen his sword multiple times, but eventually he was able to cut into the digestive tract.

The smell grew a lot worse, and Odin fought the urge to gag. Acid seemed to fill the air and he blinked had as his eyes began to sting. He used his sword to awkwardly pull back the sides and peer into the belly of the snake.

No Loki. No half-digested corpsed that was probably once Loki. No bones of a man, or at all. The stomach was empty, and Odin wondered whether the snake had been hibernating until the doors of the tomb opened again, otherwise what had it been living on?

The torchlight caught something, and Odin leaned in closer, squinting hard against the acidic air. He reached in, using his coat as a shield against the beast’s stomach acid, and pulled out an apple.

It was perfectly intact, and Odin turned it around curiously. There was no way an apple of all things should be sitting intact in the belly of the snake, and yet here it was.

Odin poked further with his sword, ignoring the way the metal had begun to corrode. There was nothing else, no metal, no clothes, nothing but a perfect apple.

Odin put the apple in his pocket and turned away from the snake. He approached the skeleton at the centre of the room. It was bound there by the rock itself, clearly whoever had trapped the god here had not been messing around.

What was that story Loki had told Anima not too long ago? About Queen Arneia, said to be the Goddess of the Earth? Could the stories contain an element of truth? Had she trapped another god down in the heart of Asgard to force them to do something? It seemed so preposterous, and yet something had happened here that almost supported her existence.

Well, all stories had to start somewhere, maybe there was an ancient queen who was the Goddess of the Earth, not, obviously, one who survived an earlier Ragnarok, that was a Jotun story and the scholars of Asgard were much more reliable, but one who had lived and died in the earliest days and whose legacy fell from history.

Odin examined the skeleton more closely. The skull was in terrible shape, melted horrible by the snake’s venom. It would have been an excruciating death. 

Further examination of the area revealed no Loki, no body and no sign of anything that had been recently… melted, but it did turn up am old box held together with rusted metal edges and a lot of hope.

Odin gently touched the lid. Whatever it was, and whether or not it contained anything, it was clearly a relic of ancient origin and he didn’t want to damage it.

The lid opened under his gentle hand and Odin glanced inside. It was a set of crystals, the kind used for magical workings. Odin glanced quickly back at the snake, but it was still a corpse. Nevertheless, he reached in and took one of the crystals, breaking whatever spell they were maintaining. If it was the snake then that would explain why it had still been alive after so many years. 

There was a sound from behind him and Odin whirled. The body of the snake collapsed before his eyes into dust and dirt as the spell’s influence vanished. He relaxed his shoulders in relief, he had no idea whether the spell was powerful enough to bring the snake back to life or whether it could only prevent it from starving to death when it was alive, but now he didn’t have to guess.

He spent about an hour making absolutely sure that there was no sign of Loki before heading back in a sombre mood.

He teleported back to the palace as soon as he was clear of the magic from the Well. He’d heard stories that trying to use spells so close to the potent vision magic would cause you to have nightmares for the rest of your life, if not just send you completely mad.

Tired and with the sun setting, he went back to his rooms and showered off the dirt of the cave before changing for dinner. The apple he put on his table alongside the crystal he had displaced.

****

Due to the disaster zone that was the Great Hall meant that dinner had to be held in private rooms rather than as the mighty feasts King Bor usually preferred. Odin joined his father, Hela and Anima in the King’s private dining room.

Anima was pale and her eyes were red. It was clear that she was worried about what had happened to Loki, and it pained Odin that he could not bring her comforting news.

Bor, by contrast was in a fine mood. The thought of Loki being dead wasn’t exactly a sad one for the king. Hela, to Odin’s surprise, seemed more serious than he would have thought; he knew she wasn’t fond of Loki and was expecting her to be in – if not good – then at least her usual spirits.

“I went back to the tomb to investigate,” Odin said, sitting down.

Bor frowned. “Why?”

“I wanted to see if I could find Loki,” Odin said, “And I wanted to know who was buried at the heart of Asgard. I thought it might have been an old king; I am certain that it was a god.”

“No matter, he’s dead whoever he was,” Bor said.

Odin shrugged. “The scholars do so enjoy gaining new information, and besides, I found the spell that was keeping the snake alive and ended it, just in case over time it restored the beast to its former glory.”

Anima looked over at him in alarm. “It was going to come _back?”_ she asked.

“Possibly, but not anymore, it’s nothing but dust now,” Odin assured her.

“And Loki?” she asked.

“No sign,” Odin said, thinking guiltily of the apple. It was an unusual thing to find in a snake’s belly, but there was no reason to think it might have belonged to Loki… except… hadn’t he been carrying around that apple he put into the Eternal Flame?

“I hope he’s alright,” Anima said. Then she suddenly slapped her own forehead. “I’m a fool,” she said. “We’re all fools.”

“Excuse me?” Bor and Hela said at the same time.

“Daianya can see every soul in the universe; we should have just asked her where he was!” Anima announced. 

“She can see everyone?” Odin asked. “I knew she was powerful but there are trillions of souls in the galaxy – ”

“Universe,” Anima corrected. “Urgh, she’s asleep.”

Anima pulled a face not unlike that of someone straining with a difficult bodily function. Hela snickered.

“I can’t wake her,” Anima said, pouting. “I’m shouting in her head and she’s just snoozing on. She went on a long hike today and I guess she was tired from last night as well.”

Hela immediately looked at her plate. Bringing up last night only served to remind her of what she’d done.

“Where’s Nal?” Odin asked as their food arrived.

Anima just stared at him for a few seconds. “You told her to stay in her room until you spoke to her,” she said. “So she’s probably in her room.”

“You haven’t spoken to her yet?” Hela asked, sounding annoyed. “She destroyed the throne room!”

“You killed her!” Anima shot back. 

“Daughters! Peace!” Odin said. “Hela and I have spoken, Nal and I will speak after dinner. We are a family and we will resolve this.”

“The renovations on the Great Hall have already begun,” Bor said. “The structural pillars have been restored so we don’t have to worry about collapse, but the interior will need a whole new façade.”

“May I help?” Hela asked suddenly.

“You want to help decorate the Great Hall?” Bor said in disbelief.

Hela nodded. “I want to make amends for my loss of control. I know I must still apologise to Nal but perhaps I can help here too.”

Both Bor and Odin were giving her disbelieving looks, Anima just rolled her eyes and helped herself to the potatoes.

“If you wish,” Bor said at last. “Yggdrasil knows I can’t stand all that fancy stuff.”

Hela turned to smile at Odin. “I want to learn about building things, not just destroying them,” she said to him.

Odin’s shoulders relaxed from a tension he didn’t know he was carrying. “I’m glad to hear it, Daughter,” he said.

****

Odin went straight back to his rooms after dinner. He was tired and, despite his confidence in Loki’s survival skills, starting to get worried that this time was the time the trickster’s luck finally ran out.

He only remembered Nal once he was already in bed, and cursed under his breath. He really needed to talk to her, and – wait, wasn’t she on the lawn earlier today? Standing by her sister? 

Odin tried to remember. Anima’s panic and the story of the snake had taken most of his attention, but he was sure Nal had been there, had she?

Odin sighed heavily. Maybe she was, maybe he was remembering things wrong. What he knew for sure was that it was late and Nal was likely in bed now anyway. He’d speak to her in the morning when they were both rested. That was probably better anyway.

With a sigh and a rare prayer to Yggdrasil for guidance in dealing with his most alien daughter, Odin shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

He was woken in the morning buy the sound of an apple being bitten into with a crunch.

Odin sat up, half asleep but already beginning to call on Yggdrasil’s power when paused and stared ahead of him in confusion.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” he exclaimed.

Loki was sitting at Odin’s table, eating his apple, with his feet proper up and absolutely no clothes on.

“I went to my castle,” he said. “I’m surprised no one came to look for me.”

“I went to the tomb to look for you!” Odin snapped, throwing off his covers and climbing out of bed. “Anima was frantic; she thought you died after she teleported back here!”

Loki shrugged. “Almost, but when you’re looking down the acidy-gullet of death little things like teleporting through powerful vision-magic doesn’t seem all that bad after all.”

“Did you see anything?” Odin asked, suddenly curious.

“Nothing very impressive, the entire creation of Yggdrasil from start to finish, the heat death of the universe, I got chased by a sentient sandwich, y’know, stuff,” Loki said.

“What are you doing in my room?” Odin asked, rolling his eyes at Loki’s answer and taking the second chair while looking Loki over for signs of injury.

“I came back for my apple,” Loki said.

Odin shook his head. “Naked?” he asked.

Loki shrugged. “All the clothes I want to wear are in the palace,” he said.

“You couldn’t have worn something else temporarily?” Odin asked him.

“Nnnnnnnoooooooo,” Loki said slowly, before taking another bite. “Is the Puppy alright?”

“Shaken, but she teleported back by herself and killed the snake,” Odin said.

“What! That’s impressive, I’m impressed,” Loki said. “She shouldn’t have done that though, that snake was a powerful creature.”

“I’m impressed too, I didn’t know she had it in her,” Odin said. “She’s normally fairly timid when it comes to fighting.”

“I don’t know why, she’s the most powerful god on Asgard,” Loki said. “But still so vulnerable, I mean, a mortal body against that thing? I shudder to think about it, look I’m shuddering. But still, thanks for saving my apple.”

“What was your apple doing in the belly of the snake?” Odin asked him.

“Well, after it ate all my knives I had nothing else to throw, so I lobbed my apple at the beast and used the ensuing confusion to get myself the _fuck_ out of there,” Loki said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to go and get dressed, see you at breakfast!”

Odin was left, sitting at his table, once again shaking his head at Loki’s behaviour.

****

The flight to Kinndyr’s family home took almost a full day. Vanaheim was a very large realm, easily ten times the size of Asgard, and Daianya was privately impressed that the people had managed to be united under a single ruling system. The change in climate and culture from place to place spoke of old alliances abandoned but not forgotten, and each new stop for food and a stretch brought different sights and experiences.

At last they arrived, touching down just as the sun was setting. Kinndyr leapt up immediately with a smile on his face. His rapid movements betrayed his nervousness as everyone got ready to stay at – and judge – his father’s estate.

It was certainly large. The estate was built on a high point among the fens, and the family owned huge areas all around in which several prized herbs and produce were grown in the only part of Vanaheim that could support them.

They ate in the large dining room and then went straight to bed; spending an entire day in a flyer with only small stops was tiring on everyone. The plan was to enjoy the estate for two weeks, including travelling to the villages surrounding the area and exploring some of the fens, before returning to the palace. 

The estate was large enough that they each had their own rooms – a fact that Norah met with a pout – but Frigga used some fast talking and a few gentle smiles in Kinndyr’s direction and when the rooms were allocated Daianya and Tarah were placed adjacent to one another.

“This is the biggest bedroom I’ve ever slept in,” Tarah said, poking her head into Daianya’s room. “It’s the size of my entire childhood home.”

“They’re very grand,” Daianya said. “They must be a terrible burden to heat.”

“I guessed Kinndyr’s family was wealthy but I didn’t imagine anything like this in a million years,” Tarah said. “I might get lost on my way from the bed to the door.”

Daianya laughed. “Maybe draw a map before the light’s gone completely?” she suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Am I interrupting?” Norbleen asked, appearing in the corridor.

“No, come in,” Daianya said.

Tarah melted away like a ghost as he entered the room. 

“Am I mistaken or does your friend not like me that much?” Norbleen asked Daianya, gesturing over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t talk to royalty very much, none of them do,” Daianya said.

“They talk to you,” Norbleen said, _“Princess_ Daianya.”

“I don’t count,” Daianya said.

“I was wondering if you would join me in the maze tomorrow, I wanted to talk to you in private, and frankly there’s nowhere more private than a giant maze with ten foot high walls that sometimes move,” Norbleen said.

“The walls move? How are you supposed to get out?” Daianya asked.

“With patience and understanding anything is possible,” Norbleen said, “At least that’s what I keep telling Dorgen.”

“Very well, I look forward to seeing it,” Daianya said. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Norbleen said with a smile, “There’s just something we need to sort out before we get back to the palace.”

He left her alone to go to bed; Daianya’s smile slowly fell into a look of concern.

“I hope it’s not the obvious,” she said with a sigh as she climbed into bed.


	21. Declarations of Love

Nal was in the garden, trimming some roses to put in her room when Loki appeared from behind the bushes.

“Hi,” He said.

“Still alive then?” Nal asked.

“Looks like it,” he said cheerfully. “But it was quite the adventurous tale which I plan to embellish outrageously at the next feast for all enchanted listeners.”

“I’m sure it was,” Nal said.

“Aren’t you meant to be in your room?” Loki asked her. “Odin said something about it at breakfast.”

“I suppose so, but he didn’t notice when I left it yesterday, and Anima said he’d forgotten he told me to stay there when she spoke to him at dinner last night, so I don’t see why I can’t just leave, otherwise I’d be stuck up there forever,” Nal said.

Loki sighed. “He wasn’t always so stupid,” he said.

“He’s got a lot of work to do,” Nal said, “Busy, busy, busy, but not too busy for Hela.”

“I’m sorry,’ Loki said softly. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“I destroyed the Great Hall,” Nal said.

“I know. I had a peek on my way through this morning. There’s still a cold spot right where Odin said you were standing.”

“I almost gave in,” Nal said. “I didn’t even realise it at the time but I almost gave in and let the cold come.” She looked up at him, concern in her eyes. “If I ran away from here, would you come with me?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Are you planning on leaving any time soon?”

Nal looked down at the roses. “I don’t want to leave my garden,” she said. “But if the choice was to leave it or destroy it…”

“You won’t,” Loki said confidently. “You love Asgard too much to destroy it.”

“I wish I had your level of faith,” Nal said. 

“Maybe Odin should leave, then you wouldn’t get so angry,” Loki suggested, making her huff in amusement.

“Do you know of any other Jotnir who can call the cold the way I do?” Nal asked.

“All Jotnir can call the cold,” Loki said, “But not like that. Not like the Great Hall.”

“Anima said Hela’s volunteered to help with the redesign,” Nal said.

Loki groaned and rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait to see all violent, bloody scenes of battles fought and won,” he said.

“You once said that all your children were monsters,” Nal said. “Even though they’re your children, and you love them, if they lost control… would you kill them to save Asgard?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “But only if I had to.”

“Would you kill me?” Nal asked.

He turned to her, eyes filled with concern. “You are not a monster,” he said.

“But if I turned into one, if I truly lost control, would you stop me?” Nal asked him.

He froze, mouth open, unable to say the answer they both knew she wanted.

“Coward,” Nal whispered and walked away from him.

He waited until she was out of sight before whispering, “Yes, but only if I get to die too.”

****

Daianya appeared at the entrance to the maze immediately after breakfast. Kinndyr had invited everyone to have a race through it as a competition, and already people were pairing up into teams of two. Norbleen glanced over at Daianya and she came to stand by his side, missing the disappointed look on Tarah’s face and the outraged one on Norah’s.

“Best of luck to all,” Kinndyr said cheerfully. “Make sure you’ve got your signalling devices in case you get lost and want to give up. The first to find their way through wins a small trophy. My father had them made up for every time he has visitors.”

He waved them into the maze with a cheerful grin, delighted to finally be able to show off the jewel of his family’s estate.

Daianya and Norbleen walked to the first fork with everyone else. It branched off in three different directions. Haewkyr immediately headed down the right hand path with Frigga, while Norbleen gestured with a questioning look at the left-hand path. Daianya followed him without protest. This early on in the maze there was hardly any point to trying to navigate.

They were joined by Tarah and Norah, who headed after them before Tarah could protest. At the next fork, though, they turned to look at each other expectedly. 

“Which one do you want?” Tarah asked Daianya.

Daianya shrugged, “You pick,” she said.

Tarah hesitated for a moment, before gesturing to her right. “We’ll take this way,” she said.

Norbleen and Daianya began walking down the left path. They were only a few steps down when a noise made them turn around. A wall was shifting to block off the path they had just taken. Daianya and Tarah looked at one another as the wall slid across between them and cut them off from each other’s gaze.

“They’ll be fine,” Norbleen said, “It’s easy to get lost in here but the servants are experts at finding people.”

Daianya nodded and continued down the pathway.

“You might as well tell me what you wanted to talk about,” she said, holding herself tensely. 

“I suppose so,” Norbleen said, glancing back at the now closed wall of the path. “They should be far enough away.”

“It’s a secret?” Daianya asked.

“Yes, for now, very much yes,” Norbleen said, looking much less like his usual confident self and a lot more like a nervous young man. “Look, neither of us is stupid, and given our titles and positions it’s not exactly a secret what my Father wants from this visit. I need to know where you stand.”

“I don’t,” Daianya said, shaking her head. “I have no stance whatsoever. The last thing I want is a betrothal, of any kind. I’m happy in the Valkyrie and any political marriage would mess that right up.”

Norbleen noticeably relaxed. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, “I wasn’t sure, I mean, the way your friend Norah was glaring at me all the time and obviously trying to push your other friend between us at every opportunity, I thought maybe you were considering it and she was objecting.”

“You noticed that too?” Daianya said. “Tarah’s got feelings for me. I’m not blind; I can see it even without Norah’s… encouragement. But it’s not as easy as she thinks it is.”

“I understand. For one thing there’s the problem of heirs,” Norbleen said. “I mean, _yes_ you can adopt, and _yes_ the law says that’s a perfectly acceptable way to have an heir, but when you’re royalty everyone gets funny about maintaining bloodlines.”

“But if you use the healers to help you have an heir naturally then it still requires a volunteer to provide the missing genetic material,” Daianya said.

“And then that causes problems over who you’ve chosen and what kind of power they have afterwards,” Norbleen finished.

“It’s hard enough being Hela’s heir and frankly, she’s not all that likely to have any children of her own, she _hates_ anything that leads to the creation of life,” Daianya said. “So it’ll be my children who will inherit the throne, and if I don’t have any then it’ll be _Nal’s_ children and I can’t begin to tell you how that’ll go down among the people of Asgard.”

“So you like Tarah back?” Norbleen asked.

“Yes,” Daianya confessed, “A lot. She’s my best friend, the only people in my life closer to me are my sisters, and that’s because they can literally hear my thoughts. Tarah is the person I _want_ to share my thoughts with, but there’s more problems with a relationship than just not having an heir.”

“It’s the pressure that comes with being royal,” Norbleen said. “You never know if they are going to say yes because they like you or if it’s because they’re intimidated and afraid to turn you down. And then even when you know they like you for you there’s the question of whether they’ll be able to handle royal life when they weren’t raised to it, pressure from your parents about them and their status, endless questions about whether they’re using you to gain power or prestige…”

“Who is it?” Daianya asked with a knowing smile on her face. “You know far too much about this not to have gone through it yourself.”

Norbleen blushed and smiled a giddy little smile. “Haewkyr,” he said. “He showed up to court a few years back with such _confidence_ and charm. I had a crush on him before the end of the first course. But there were so many factors to consider. If he hadn’t cornered me in the stables and told me to kiss him or banish him I don’t think I’d ever have made a move. But my father is so preoccupied with finding me a wife that I’m actually afraid to tell him. He’s never said he _wouldn’t_ be alright with me having a husband, but he’s also never mentioned it as a possibility either, not even in passing.”

“Do you think he’ll be angry?” Daianya asked.

“I don’t know. I do know he’ll be disappointed. He’s not fond of Dorgen and won’t be happy about his future children being my heirs,” Norbleen said. 

“How can he not be fond of his own child?” Daianya asked.

The thought of Nal drifted across her mind and she winced slightly as Norbleen answered.

“It’s more that he’s not fond of Dorgen’s mother. After my mother died my father swore he’d never love anyone ever again, and I believe that’s true. He married my stepmother out of political necessity and they barely talk to one another except when they have to. Dorgen’s birth was the fulfilment of her duty, and so… things have been rather tense ever since,” Norbleen said. “I know he shouldn’t take it out on Dorgen and he mostly doesn’t, but it’s obvious he prefers me.”

“So when are you planning to tell your father?” Daianya asked.

“I already tried once, but I chicken out,” Norbleen said bluntly. “I’m lucky that Haewkyr is so understanding. He’s basically agreed to let me do it in my own time, even if that means I never tell and just wait for my father to die.”

“King Dimcken is only middle-aged,” Daianya said.

“Yes, so… five thousand more years then?” Norbleen said, making her laugh. “I’ll do it before we come to Asgard, Haewkyr is going to join the army with me so that we can come together. If everyone already knows then we won’t have to keep hiding it once we’re there.”

“I wonder how Tarah would go with being a hidden lover?” Daianya wondered, “Probably not well, if we were together I’d have to tell straight away.”

“Would she be worth it?” Norbleen asked.

“I think so, but she might think I’m not,” Daianya said. “It’s one thing to have a crush and think about kissing them as you fall asleep at night, it’s quite another to be in a real relationship and having to deal with everything that goes with it.”

“Think about kissing?” Norbleen asked with a smile.

“I really want to kiss her,” Daianya confessed.

“You should,” Norbleen said. “Secret or not, Haewkyr has made me ridiculously happy these past few years.”

“Haewkyr is still a noble,” Daianya said, “Tarah is not. There’s a lot more pressure with me in spite of what you face with your father.”

They reached another fork, looked at one another and shrugged.

“Right?” Norbleen suggested.

“Sure,” Daianya said.

“I was hoping that this visit would give us a chance to talk in person about our respective realms,” Norbleen said. “There’re a lot of things in Vanaheim that I’m not happy with. It’s old fashioned and some of the customs really need to change. Asgard seems so much more modern by comparison. If I join the army and have the chance to come and stay for a while, I want to learn everything I can about the way your realm does things, and I wanted to make sure before I arrived that you and I were on the same page about… all this, about _us,_ specifically the lack of ‘us’.”

“Don’t worry, we’re of the same mind,” Daianya said.

“Besides, given what I’ve heard of Hela, there seems to be a very good chance that one day we’ll be Monarchs at the same time,” Norbleen continued.

“Hela’s not that much older than me, developmentally,” Daianya said. “It’s far more likely yours and my heirs will be contemporaries.”

Norbleen gave her a thoughtful look. “From what I’ve heard, King Bor would be mad to leave Hela in the line of succession,” he said.

Daianya’s face went courtly-blank.

“I’m not asking for confirmation, just thinking out loud,” Norbleen said. “And what I’m thinking is, that it might be far better for us to be friends with a good understanding and appreciation of one another’s realms than it would be to encourage a marriage which we both don’t want.”

“I think I agree with you,” Daianya said, finally relaxing. 

****

They reached the end of the maze after two hours, most of which was spent chatting like the friends they were, and walked out to discover that they had come in dead last.

“We were going to search for you soon,” Haewkyr said, holding out a sandwich. “Here, eat up, we’ve been starving waiting for you two.”

Norbleen offered the sandwich to Daianya and then took one of his own. “We just got busy talking,” he said.

“About what?” Norah asked pointedly. Tiree kicked her on the ankle.

“Royalty stuff,” Daianya said non-committedly, taking a seat next to Tarah. “Did you come in first?” 

“Third,” Tarah said. “Frigga and Haewkyr won the trophy.”

“Want to try it again later?” Daianya asked.

Tarah smiled and looked down at her sandwich. “Sure,” she said.


	22. The Complications of Loving a Princess

Anima was sitting at her table studying the images she’d taken of the tomb with a frown of concentration on her face. The runes didn’t really expand on the occupant of the tomb, other than to say that he had refused to do some kind of duty and that his punishment was to be confined until he changed his mind.

“Any luck?” Nal asked from her doorway.

She was holding two trays, one in each hand, on which their lunches were resting.

“Not so far,” Anima said, pushing her papers aside and waving Nal in. “You normally eat in the garden.”

“I thought the most likely time for Father to come and talk to me would be at mealtimes when he’s free,” Nal said, “So I thought it best to be back here then. But I needn’t have bothered. He sent a note saying I was free to leave my room.”

“He doesn’t want to talk about what happened?” Anima asked sadly.

Nal shook her head and stabbed her fork into her lunch. “He does not,” she said bitterly.

“Sometimes I wonder about that man,” Anima said. “When I was a child I thought he was the greatest person in the world, but the older I get the younger and less mature he seems to be.”

“What are you working on?” Nal said, not even trying to hide her attempt to change the subject.

“The occupant of the tomb,” Anima said. “But it’s so far back that I don’t think I’ve got a hope of identifying him.”

“I might be able to help,” Nal said. “Stay here.”

She rose and went to her room, returning a few seconds later with a book in her hands.

“Is that the history of the gods?” Anima asked, seeing the cover.

“Yes. It lists every god to ever have lived and their powers,” Nal said. 

“It doesn’t date back further than recorded history, surely?” Anima asked.

“No, but also possibly yes,” Nal said, opening the book to a small section near the beginning. “You know the old stronghold where Uncle Vili lives?”

“Yes”

“And how it used to be shelter for our people back before we culled the bilgesnipe herds and moved out here to the plains?”

“Yes”

“Well, the ancient village nearest to it is thought to be one of our earliest settlements, and the runes on one of the walls there list the very first record of the gods, like Njord and Nerþus, two rulers from that time.”

“Okay,” Anima said. 

“But on one of the walls there were runes carved that referred to even more ancient gods, and the prevailing theory is that they were remembered via oral history before being carved on the wall at the time of the settlement,” Nal said. “That’s how we know the name of Queen Arneia, the Goddess of the Earth. Her name and a short biography are carved onto this other wall. Now, there’s no concrete proof that she ever existed, and the wall may just be a record of what people believed at the time including any and all mistakes made in the telling of the tales, but it’s still the best lead we have as to who came before Njord.”

“So who else has a name on the wall?” Anima asked, catching on.

“There are three names which are carved alongside Queen Arneia’s,” Nal said, “Sannindi and Svik. Sannindi in the more ancient version of our language roughly means ‘truth’ or ‘true’. If Loki’s stories are correct then this man was most likely the seer who led the people of Asgard to their new home, so that leaves Svik.”

“Svik means betrayer,” Anima said. “Even now if someone is svik then they’re a liar and a charlatan, someone not to be trusted.”

“Exactly. It’s only a theory, but it may even be possible that this god’s name entered our language long ago as a slang term for a betrayer or liar, based on his actions all the way back then,” Nal said. “If he didn’t do what he was supposed to do, what Yggdrasil tasked him to do, I can only imagine that the people back then would be very unhappy about it.”

“Unhappy enough to bury him, presumably alive, at the very heart of new Asgard,” Anima said.

“It’s quite likely he was alive, dead men don’t have to be imprisoned in chains of rock,” Nal said. 

Anima pulled the images closer to her again. “The runes of his name are badly worn, but not _long_. Svik is a short name,” she said.

“If, as per the myth, it was his job to claim the new land as Asgard, then maybe by refusing to do it they had no home,” Nal said. 

“Why wouldn’t you want to claim the new land?” Anima said. “Why would anyone not want to be the saviour of Asgard’s lost people?”

“Maybe he hated them,” Nal guessed. “Maybe they were hard on him and he didn’t want to reward them, or maybe the act of claiming it killed him and he wasn’t ready to die.”

“Well they did trap him underground with a giant acid-spitting snake,” Anima said. “I think it’s safe to say if he didn’t hate them before he _definitely_ did afterwards.”

**** 

Daianya and Tarah met in the corridor after breakfast and walked down to the maze together.

“I didn’t really get a chance to properly appreciate it before,” Daianya said. “I was distracted by other things, but it really is a remarkable wonder.”

“Ten foot high stone walls that slide as though they were on melted butter, covering an area roughly the size of a small city,” Tarah said. “I’ve heard there’s a bunch of art sculptures and things to find in there as well.”

“I asked the kitchen to pack us lunch, so we don’t have to rush,” Daianya said, holding up a bag.

They headed across the grounds as the morning sun fought away the mist coming off the fens, and stopped in front of the entrance.

“It’s actually really imposing when you stop and look at it,” Tarah said, staring upwards.

“It reminds me of when I was a child and we visited the mountain forests near the edge,” Daianya said. “It was so quiet and still it almost felt threatening… but then Loki jumped out from behind a rock and scared us so badly Anima lost control and blew him backwards with a blast of magic. He said he’d never been more proud of her.”

“You and I had very different childhoods,” Tarah said.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them, then Daianya started walking again.

“Vanaheim is very beautiful,” she said, “I’d read about some of their wonders but it’s been nice getting a chance to see it for myself.”

“I’d like to go out to the desert plains,” Tarah said. “There’s supposed to be some really big animals out there, large cats and other things not found on Asgard.”

“No, we got bilgesnipes and giant serpents and direbears,” Daianya said. “Asgard is so full of dangerous animals it’s like the realm was purpose built to kill us all.”

“Instead it made us stronger,” Tarah said. “You could take down a direbear single-handed I’m sure.”

Daianya smiled at her and got one in return.

“You could too, if you wanted to,” she said.

“Nah, I’m a natural on the pegasi but I don’t have your brute strength,” Tarah said. “But I could take one down if you had my back.”

“Always,” Daianya said immediately. 

There was a rumble from behind them and the path they were on closed over as the wall moved.

“I wonder what sets them off?” Daianya wondered. “Timers? Sensors? Something else?”

“Maybe there’s a servant whose sole job is to close off the way to make it harder to solve?” Tarah said.

There was another awkward pause as they both thought about someone watching them. 

“I doubt it,” Daianya said. “Seems like a waste of servant time.”

“Do you want to go this way or down the straight path?” Tarah asked as they reached a branch in the maze.

“Let’s turn inward,” Daianya said. “I still want to see if we can find the centre of this thing. There’s supposed to be a small garden with seats and archways and statues.”

They kept walking, commenting on little things here and there, neither one of them brave enough to touch on the giant invisible subject pushing them apart. Tarah was still unsure of Daianya’s feelings, and Daianya was still afraid the pressures of her rank would push Tarah into something she wasn’t ready for, or felt trapped in.

After fifteen more minutes of semi-awkward silence they reached a point where the maze opened up.

“This is it,” Dainya said, “This is the centre of the maze.”

“It’s beautiful,” Tarah commented.

White marble archways framed a garden filled with flowers. Bees buzzed merrily from bloom to bloom as a heavy, sweet scent filled the air.

“Let’s have lunch here,” Daianya said.

They settled on one of the marble benches and unpacked their food.

“I’ve heard that the Kronans are getting jumpy again,” Tarah said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Me too, they never leave us alone for long,” Daianya said.

“If it’s just raids then the army will probably handle most of it, Kronan raids rarely need air support,” Tarah said.

For the next hour both women happily latched on to the topic of raids, battle and strategy, grateful for the chance to put their uneasiness behind them for a little while. But when the last sandwich was eaten and the bags repacked they both stood up and faced one another.

“Well, we should find a way out of here before they send anyone in to find us,” Tarah said.

Daianya paused, words of confession sitting on her tongue. Here in the beauty of the garden she desperately wanted to tell Tarah everything. Tell her that Daianya was not blind or stupid, just scared, and that she had no idea how to make a relationship work when the power they each held was so incredibly different. Tell her that Daianya would never pressure her or try to make her into something she wasn’t, but that she couldn’t guarantee that others wouldn’t. But the fear was too much, and she caved.

“Yes, let’s get going,” she said.

They navigated their way out of the maze, finding a few of the sculptures Kinndyr had mentioned along the way, and once diving at great speed through a closing gap, giggling madly the entire time.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t made it?” Tarah asked, breathless from her mad dash.

“Climbed the wall and come back,” Daianya said.

“That’s cheating,” Tarah said.

“It’s not cheating if you don’t do it to win,” Daianya said.

They walked out of the maze in the late afternoon to find Norah waiting for them.

“How long have you been sitting there?” Daianya asked her.

“I wasn’t _sitting_ , I was _tanning”_ Norah said.

Daianya shook her head and went inside. Norah shot Tarah a questioning look and Tarah shook her head.

“Dammit,” Norah muttered.

Daianya met Norbleen on the stairs on his way down to the gardens.

“Oh, you made it out then?” he said and she nodded.

Tarah and Norah walked in behind her and he shot Daianya a questioning look. She shook her head sadly.

He gave her a sympathetic look and moved past her. “We’re going to go boating on the lake if you want to join us,” he said to all three of them. “Meet us down there?”

“Sure,” Daianya said as Tarah and Norah nodded. “Just give us a few minutes to wash up.”

Daianya went back to her room and looked at herself in the mirror.

“You are such a coward,” she said to herself and reached for a new hairband; her last one was on the verge of snapping.

****

Nal and Scyth were digging out the marked garden beds. Nal was shovelling into the earth with hard, angry blows, while Scyth was manning the wheelbarrow and providing pickaxe support.

“I heard a rumour that there’s a permanent cold spot in the Great Hall now,” he said after watching her carve into the earth with a viciousness usually reserved for cheating spouses.

“Others have mentioned it,” Nal said. “I didn’t mean it.”

Oh I didn’t think you had, but it’s still really impressive, I mean, if you could do it at will then you could make a winter garden,” Scyth said.

Nal paused in her digging. “What?”

“You know, a garden that was always cold and snowy, where you could grow plants that don’t grow anywhere else. A winter garden all year ‘round,” Scyth said.

Nal dug the shovel into the earth again, a little less forcefully. “I suppose so,” she said. “Doesn’t it bother you? What I did?”

Scyth shrugged. “I live on a realm with a half-sentient wolf, a horse with eight legs, magic spilling out everywhere and an actual Goddess of Death. A princess that can make it super cold and stay that way isn’t going to scare me unless you try to put me in the middle of it.”

“That’s… a point, certainly,” Nal said.

“Were you out using your powers against King Malekith?” Scyth asked her. “I heard that Princess Hela tore half their army apart, and Princess Daianya did the other half, and then Princess Anima brought everyone home again. But I haven’t heard any stories about you.”

“I wasn’t there,” Nal said. “I was on Jotunheim, winning a bet against its king.”

“What did you win?” Scyth asked.

“A different type of cage,” Nal said, “It wasn’t the cleverest of bets, but I felt trapped and didn’t see another way out.”

“Did he want you to marry him? That’s usually what kings want from Princesses,” Scyth said.

“Yes, he did. But I won the bet and now instead I’m his heir, at least until another candidate comes along.”

“So… if he drops dead tomorrow you have to go to Jotunheim?” Scyth asked. “That’s stupid!”

“Like I said, until another candidate comes along,” Nal said. “King Grundroth is an older man, but he’s in good health and I doubt that there have been no contenders these past fifteen years, one of them will succeed before Grundroth dies, I’m sure.”

“If you went to Jotunheim then you’d have to make a winter garden,” Scyth said. “You wouldn’t be able to grow anything else.”

“Why did you want to know about the Convergence?” Nal asked him. He shrugged.

“I missed it. I was in the gardens when it started and then suddenly we were all being ushered inside. Next thing I know they’re saying there’s a battle going on and King Malekith is attacking us. I heard about your sisters’ involvement later on, and I was just curious why you weren’t mentioned when you’re so powerful, but I guess you can’t fight a battle if you aren’t there,” he said.

They were disturbed by a figure walking across the lawns towards the palace. Nal recognised him and frowned deeply.

“Who’s that?” Scyth asked.

“Lord Elbin,” Nal practically spat.

“The True Men’s Aliance Leader?” Scyth asked, looking over with interest. “I’ve heard people in the taverns talk about him. Some say he’s very charismatic, but others say he’s just a well-dressed wanker.”

“Definitely the second one,” Nal said as Lord Elbin reached hearing range. He looked over and saw her glaring.

“Princess Nal, allowed out already?” he asked, closing the gap between them.

“Why are you sneaking in through the rear gardens instead of walking in through the front door?” Nal asked him.

“It must have been so embarrassing to be sent to your room like a naughty child,” he continued, ignoring her.

“She’s got a point,” Scyth said as Nal glared at him. “Only servants and gardeners come in through the back way. Are you a servant now?”

He turned his attention to Scyth as Nal glanced back at him in surprise. Scyth was normally quite careful to be deferential to the nobility.

“And who are you?” Lord Elbin asked, “Of course it doesn’t matter, you aren’t anything important, just a boy pushing a barrow, it’s hardly a skilled position.”

The air in the garden suddenly blew cold.

“Still so emotional?” Lord Elbin said to Nal at once. “Every time we meet you prove my theory that Jotun women need to be controlled, lest they give in to their childish urges to stamp their feet and break things.”

Nal bit the inside of her cheek and the air warmed again.

“I heard you were once betrothed to King Grundroth, I wonder if he turned you down because of how unstable you are?” Lord Elbin said, still smiling his courtly smile as though he was just talking about the weather.

“I’ve heard people say you are a great speaker,” Scyth said. “But if this is it then they must be even more stupid than I thought they were.”

“Luckily, I need not _your_ opinion, dirt-boy,” Lord Elbin said.

“You do though,” Scyth said. “Or at least those like me. Without the lower classes following your cause in numbers you’ve got nothing.”

Lord Elbin just smiled his infuriating smile. “Perhaps one day you will be old enough to understand how things really work,” he said patronisingly and went to walk away.

“How things really work, is that I outrank you,” Nal said coldly, “And I have not given you leave to depart.”

Lord Elbin looked over his shoulder. “But can you afford another scandal?” he asked and kept walking.

Nal clenched her fists and ice began to form at her feet, gliding across the grass towards where Lord Elbin was walking.

“Your Grace, Princess, Nal,” Scyth said. “You’re killing the grass.”

Nal blinked and the ice shattered, falling in tiny shards among the blades.

“One day I’m going to watch him die,” she said bitterly.

“You know, if we dig a big pit in the centre of the garden, like a huge one with ramps that people can walk down to a fountain or something in the centre, then we could bury him under the middle and no one would ever find him,” Scyth said.

Nal turned to look at him with a smile forming on her face.

“I’ve never seen you smile,” Scyth said. “Never heard you laugh, now that I think about it.”

“I rarely smile, and I never laugh,” Nal said. “Thank you for defending me.”

Scyth blushed and kicked the dirt at his feet awkwardly. “I wasn’t about to let him insult you. I like you,” he said.

“You do, don’t you?” Nal asked.

“Well, you like plants as much as I do, and you’re really strong and very clever, and you don’t speak to me like a dirt-boy even though I am one really, and well, I was never very good at finding girls my own rank to like,” Scyth said. “But I really like you.”

To her surprise, and mild horror, Nal blushed purple. “Um…” she managed.

“Can I kiss you?” Scyth asked. “I mean, you can say no, if you want to. I just… I’d really like to kiss you.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll freeze your lips off?” Nal asked him.

“Can you?” Scyth asked her.

“Yes,” Nal said.

“But would you?” Scyth asked.

The sound of another gardener broke through their conversation and made them jump. Scyth went to grab the handles of the wheelbarrow, but Nal stopped him. 

“Come with me,” she said.

She led him to her workshop beneath the Home’s Shelter tree, brushing back the beads that blocked the doorway and lighting the lamps inside instead of tying back the fabric that blocked the ‘windows’ made by gaps in the roots.

Scyth looked up. “Oh, no rings.”

“I told you it was boring,” Nal said.

He looked back at her. “You think I’d find this boring? Me? The gardener?”

She smiled again, more shyly than she would ever admit to anyone, or even to herself.

“Can I kiss you here?” Scyth asked quietly.

“If you like,” Nal said.

“If we get caught, is the King going to have me killed?” Scyth asked, moving closer to her.

“I doubt he’d even notice,” Nal said. “Neither would my father.”

“They should notice you,” Scyth said, coming closer until he was standing inches from her. “If the world was fair everyone would notice you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, his lips were rough from being out in the sun every day, and Nal immediately began to sense his code.

He felt like strength, especially in the upper body. Intelligence was high and so was natural awareness. He was impulsive, but then she already knew that, given he was kissing a princess.

Nal pulled him closer, moulding to his body and letting herself enjoy the feeling of warmth that came from his body. He deepened the kiss and she allowed it, pulling him towards her as much as he was pushing. He lifted her up in his arms and pressed her back against the wall of the Home’s Shelter tree, her skirts bunched in his arms. Nal reached down between them and undid the buckle of his pants, letting them fall to the floor.

He pulled her skirts up higher, bunching them around her waist. Nal wrapped her legs around him and let him slide his hand over her thigh and cup her buttocks, needing the flesh as he kissed her over and over again. 

Nal ran her hands through his hair, feeling the thick strands tickle her fingers. He shifted in place and she felt his penis brushing her thigh. She responded by drawing him closer with her legs, placing a number of small kisses against his lips in quick succession.

“I’ll still be a dirt-boy in the morning,” he said against her mouth.

“I don’t care,” she replied.

****

Anima stopped moving with her tea cup halfway to her mouth and struggled not to smile. 

“What is it?” Loki asked her. 

They were having afternoon tea on the other side of the palace, in the rose garden.

“You don’t want to know,” Anima said, shaking her head slightly and forcing her mind to focus only on what was in front of her and not on the complicated, defiant, and vaguely hopeful thoughts of Nal echoing in the back of her head.


	23. Cults, And Why They Suck

General Hymir’s ship reached the Paraxela after a long and difficult journey. The first thing he did once their ship had landed was order his men to install a Bifrost locator, so that they wouldn’t have to make the journey by ship ever again.

After it was done he showered and changed into clothing more suitable for a wealthy noble and headed for the Thieves Guild Headquarters. 

The woman at the gate took in his clothing and jewels with a practiced eye and gave him a broad smile of welcome.

“Welcome to Paraxela’s Guild of Acquisitioners,” she said. “May I ask whether you have an appointment?”

“Sadly no,” Hymir said smoothly. “Will that be a problem?”

She checked a list in front of her and then smiled. “No, fortunately one of our advisors is free right now, please take a seat and I will summon him.”

Hymir sat and waved his two guards, masquerading as attendants, off to the side. It was only a few minutes later that a well-dressed man walked through the rear door and stopped to speak softly to the woman, who gestured to where Hymir sat.

He approached with a smile on his face. “Welcome, I am your humble servant, if I might have your name?” he asked.

“Gentri,” Hymir lied easily, remaining seated as though he was used to be waited on. “And you are?”

“Mion,” said the man. “My task is to assist you with whatever issue has brought you to our door. If you would be kind enough to follow me we can speak in private.”

Hymir rose and his guards came to flank him. Mion said nothing to object, and all three of them followed him through the rear door and down the plush and richly decorated corridors beyond. He led them to an office, equally opulent, with a tray of drinks and a selection of food already laid out.

“Now,” Mion said as they made themselves comfortable, “What is it that beings you to our door?”

“An item was stolen from me,” Hymir said, “I would like it back.”

“We do not release any information on finished contracts,” Mion said at once.

“You misunderstand me,” Hymir said. “The item was not stolen by contract, but by a man who was in my employ, who has since fled with it. I would like to engage your services to see it safely returned.”

Mion immediately relaxed; his smile returned. “Of course,” he said. “We are but humble servants.”

“It is very important to me,” Hymir said. “I need you to put your best person on it, and I will pay accordingly.”

Mion bowed his head. “We do not operate in that manner,” he said. He noted Hymir’s frown and quickly added “You never know who the best person for a task is until the task is completed. What one may succeed at well another may fail, and yet the reverse might be true under different circumstances.”

“So how do your contracts work then?” Hymir asked.

“We issue the contract to all our members, those who believe they can fulfil it will attempt to do so – if the reward is great enough – and upon completion you will come here to retrieve your item and make your payment,” Mion said. “It is one of the reasons for our high success rate.”

“So until the contract is fulfilled your members can keep trying?” Hymir asked, “As long as it takes?”

“As long as it takes,” Mion confirmed. “Now, may I enquire as to the item in question? And, of course, what you wish to offer as a reward?”

“The item is of a highly delicate nature,” Hymir said. “It is known as the tesseract, an artefact of great power, and the man who stole it is named Thorant.”

Mion’s face flickered just slightly. “The tesseract has been stolen?” he asked.

“You know of it?” Hymir asked in turn.

“It has come to our attention previously,” Mion said, “As an object of great power there are always those who seek it. You say this Thorant has taken it?”

“And fled Asgard,” Hymir said. “We tracked him as far as the Lowden system but then his ship exploded and five different energy signatures were detected from the site. We couldn’t follow them all before they faded.”

“How interesting,” Mion said. “Well, I’m sure some of our more experienced trackers will be willing to take this on. What reward are you willing to offer?”

“Seventy Jotun tears and as much gold as they can carry,” Hymir said.

“I shall put down eighty tons, if you leave it open they shall show up with a fleet,” Mion said.

“You said that others were interested in the tesseract,” Hymir said. “What happens if you get competing contracts?”

“The highest bidder is contacted first,” Mion said calmly.

Hymir raised an eyebrow. “How do I know if there is another contract, or that I am the highest bidder?”

“You don’t. You offer what you believe it’s worth,” Mion said.

“Make it a hundred tons,” Hymir said. 

****

They returned to the ship with their copy of the contract in hand.

“Paper,” Hymir said in disgust. “Do you think they keep any records on computer?”

“If they do we’ll have them soon,” said one of his guards and fellow play-actor, Gunther, plugging a small device into the ship’s viewing port. “I attached the breaking device when he turned away to fetch the scroll.”

“There must be a digital record,” said his other companion to the Thieves Guild, Stardet. “How else would they communicate the contracts to all their members? I can’t see them dropping in to Paraxela every week to see if something knew has come up.”

“If we’re lucky, the moment they release this new contract every thief on their way to Asgard will turn tracker out in the stars instead,” Hymir said. “It’ll buy us time to find out who made the first contract at least.”

“Got it,” said Gunther. “There’s a record entered manually and then sent via closed communication on a highly encoded channel.”

“Can you read it yet?” Hymir asked.

“Not yet, but the decoder is already working on it,” said Gunther. 

“We have to head home soon otherwise we’ll look suspicious,” Hymir said.

“There’s a number of pleasure centres of Paraxela,” said a third guard, Thoster, looking at a second screen. “If you want to keep up the pretence of a rich noble you can visit one and extend our stay.”

Hymir looked at Gunther. “Do you need that much time?” he asked.

“I think so, Sir,” Gunther replied.

“Very well, Thoster, book me something… suitable for a noble with money, I’ll bring two of you along as my bodyguards. Tell me when it’s done,” Hymir said, turning away to wait in his quarters.

Gunther looked at Stardet and Thoster. “Book him something nice, maybe with a deep mineral spa,” he said. “He doesn’t relax enough.”

“Already on it,” Thoster said.

****

Tyr stepped out of his house and shut the door behind him. He was nervous and trying not to show it. Next door, Commander Lomax did the same and gave him a nod of greeting. Together they walked across the training yards to the side gate out of the palace. With his father away, Commander Lomax had offered to take Tyr to one of Lord Elbin’s meetings in the city, and Tyr had been looking forward to it for days.

They stepped out of the gate and walked around the wide pathway than led around the palace. It was well lit, and up above their heads guards stood on watch, observing everyone who had business circling the palace day or night.

Tyr resisted the urge to keep his head down. He knew his father would be furious if he was caught anywhere near Lord Elbin or the True Men’s Alliance, but the guards had no way of knowing his destination. No doubt they would assume that Commander Lomax had offered to take him to dinner to check in on him and to break up the monotony of being alone in his house for the last two weeks – a perfectly acceptable thing to do – and anyone who paid attention knew that Commander Lomax had been left tentatively in charge of Tyr’s wellbeing.

Still, the feeling that somehow they knew what he was up to was like a shadow looming over him until they left the palace, and the sight of the guards, behind them.

Commander Lomax led him through the main street for a long way before turning off towards the quieter district where businesses like banking houses and commodities trading took place. The taverns here were more discrete than those on the main street or down at the tradesmen’s district.

The tavern in question looked closed, but Commander Lomax knocked on the door and waited with quiet confidence. A window in the door opened and the owner peered out and looked them both over.

“New recruit?” he asked.

“New to you, not to me,” Commander Lomax said with a proud smile. 

The door opened and they entered, stepping into the warmly lit main room which was filled with men of all ranks and professions. Tyr saw bulky labourers sitting by tailers with calloused, yet slender fingers, Lords sitting next to guardsmen, some boys his own age in clothing of varying quality.

“All men are equal,” Commander Lomax said, catching his eye and giving him a smile. “In Lord Elbin’s world, all men must prove themselves worthy, and in so doing will earn status, and the right to a woman.”

Tyr nodded seriously. He immediately placed himself in the group of men who would be successful. The idea that he might fail to prove himself didn’t even cross his mind.

There were women in the room. Quiet, subdued, most of them were holding wine jugs or trays of food, all of them were looking at the floor unless they had to look up to navigate their way through the crowd of men. Tyr saw Myia Catrensdottir, who was pale and looked as though she’d been crying, standing behind her husband and holding a pitcher, ready to serve.

The sight of her misery made something in him hesitate for just a second, but then Lord Elbin walked into the room from the back of the bar and Tyr immediately forgot all about her.

“My friends,” Lord Elbin said, “Fellow true men, fellow believers of freedom. Thank you all for coming tonight. I see some new faces, which brings me joy to know that our cause is growing every day. But still, for now we must be cautious. There are still many people, including fellow men, who do not yet see the true way, and they will stand against us if we move too quickly.”

Tyr frowned slightly and glanced at Commander Lomax, but the Commander’s gaze was glued to Lord Elbin. 

“Our efforts must continue,” Lord Elbin said, “To reach more men, more converts to the cause. Every day that passes where the laws and institutions of this realm hold women up where they shouldn’t belong damages us as a realm, but to try and change them without enough support will ruin us. You must keep trying, keep talking to your fellow men, keep making progress.”

There was a cheer of support and Lord Elbin smiled, taking it in stride. 

“Now,” he said, “Tonight’s topic is one of the utmost seriousness. For there is an institution older than any other, a set of laws that, under most circumstances, is acceptable but flawed. Under these circumstances, however, it is unacceptable in the extreme. I am talking, of course, about the line of succession and the crown of Asgard itself.”

There was a hush in the room. Desiring a world in which men were undeniably in charge was one thing, speaking against the crown was treason.

“Do not be concerned, I have nothing but the greatest of respect for our great King Bor,” Lord Elbin said. “He is strong, fearless, commanding, and he has three sons. He is everything a King should be. Crown Prince Odin is capable, powerful, fearless in battle and clever against his enemies, he makes a worthy heir. But there is a problem with the next generation, is there not? Four Princesses. Four daughters and not one son. The law states that a son shall inherit over a daughter if he exists, but Odin has had no son. He has remained unwed, and indeed, uncourting, for fifty years now. This is not a good state of affairs. Should anything happen to the King and the Crown Prince, Yggdrasil forbid, then _Princess Hela_ shall inherit the throne.”

There was some muttering of discontent, Tyr nodded in agreement to the words he heard. Words like ‘unstable’ and ‘violent’ and ‘not clever enough’. He’d had little to do with Hela personally, but he did attend the nightly feasts most of the time and he had seen enough of her to know she was not a good candidate for the throne.

“And then there’s the next in line,” Lord Elbin said. “Princess Daianya. An Aesir, which is better than the last two at least, but she’s a Valkyrie – a Valkyrie! She spends her time training and fighting like a man, but she will never be as good as one. How will she ever give her husband the sons this realm so desperately needs when she is off fighting all the time? If Odin has no son then she _must_ for the sake of this realm, be taught the proper way for a woman to act.”

Tyr nodded his head, ignoring the private, nagging, thought that whispered that Daianya had been a very good fighter the last time they had sparred, as good as her father, or even King Bor, from what Tyr had seen of the King in the training ring. Lord Elbin had a point about the heirs though, what if she was injured in battle? Then the crown would fall to – 

“Princess Nal,” Lord Elbin said, breaking into Tyr’s thoughts. “A Jotun, a _Jotun_ , in line to the throne of Asgard! I have heard what the travellers and traders to Jotunheim say about how their women are treated, and I approve! Locked away in strongholds under the control of the men who are worthy of them, kept in luxury, but carefully controlled lest they fall prey to savage instincts. Princess Nal has those very same instincts, some of you have seen it with your own eyes! The damage in the Great Hall, every wall and panel demolished, and why? Because the little princess lost her temper! Someone like that could never _lead_ us, it’s laughable!”

Tyr had not been in the Great Hall for the ‘incident’, as it was being referred to as among the servants and guards of the palace, but he’d peeked, like so many others, at the result and he’d been shocked to see the damage. The only thing that bothered him about it was that Nal, of all the princesses, had always seemed the most collected and in control of her emotions. Finding out she had lost her temper had been almost as shocking as seeing the result.

“And so we come to Princess Anima, the Mortal. Physically weak, known to be flighty and joyful, but hardly someone who could take command of this realm and see us through the many challenges we face. And yes I know, she is the Goddess of Magic, Yggdrasil works in mysterious ways indeed, but then again, what is magic but a woman’s art? Tricks and enchantments so often used to manipulate powerful men. She might be able to do ‘great things’, but so can we all if given the opportunity, and our greatest comes from our inherent nature, not some gift from the world tree as an accident of birth.”

Tyr nodded. It bothered him that he had not been chosen by Yggdrasil to be a god. He felt that he would have been really good at it, if given the chance.

“And so you see, we face a problem that must have a resolution, and as quickly as possible,” Lord Elbin said. “Prince Odin must have a son. It is the best solution for us all.”

“But how? We can’t make him,” asked a man sitting towards the back.

“You are correct, my friend,” Lord Elbin said. “We cannot make Prince Odin do what we wish, nor would I want to try. Manipulating a prince is a crime after all. No. We cannot force him, but we can encourage him. We can place women who know their place in his way, we can introduce them to him and encourage his interest should it arise.”

Tyr felt his shoulders relax. No evil conspiracy, just some concerned citizens willing to do their part to save the future of Asgard.

“And of course, we must remove the princesses from the line of succession,” Lord Elbin added.

Tyr blinked. He went to open his mouth to object to what sounded like a call to murder, but Commander Lomax put a hand on his arm and squeezed.

“Hela will, I have no doubt, be the cause of her own downfall,” Lord Elbin said into the silence. “The others ought to be married, preferably to those in other realms in order to make it more difficult for them to return to Asgard in the future. I have heard rumours that Prince Norbleen is interested in Princess Daianya, but even if he is not, a marriage here to one of our own would be enough to begin the process of teaching her the right way for a woman to behave. _Nal_ " – he drawled the name – "needs to be sent to Jotunheim as quickly as possible. There was a potential betrothal in place once but it fell apart, we must find out why and see if there is any way to revive it. She would be happier there anyway, as wild and unstable as she is. And Princess Anima, well, she’s a charming little thing but even Prince Odin wouldn’t put a fragile Mortal on the throne. With his daughters out of the way he will feel increased pressure to have more heirs, a son, and the true ruler of Asgard after him.”

Tyr relaxed again. Not treason, again just… hopefulness. He shot Commander Lomax a nod to let him know that it was okay to let go. Commander Lomax returned the nod and reached for his cup instead. He held it up imperiously and a woman came scurrying to fill it. Tyr picked up his own cup and did the same, feeling strangely self-conscious. It worked, and she filled his with haste as soon as she saw it. Tyr felt a smile come on to his face. He could get used to this.


	24. Future Choices

Anima appeared in the middle of the forest and breathed in the now familiar scent of the trees and bushes around her. It was spring on Midgard and the forest was filled with life. She made her way to the clearing where she and Senan would rendezvous twice a year, for a single day. 

She reached the clearing where they spent their day and set about lighting the fire. She’d brought potatoes, fish, and boar for them to eat and wanted to get the ashes hot enough to start the cooking process.

She was just setting out the other things from her bag – the butter, salads, onions, cakes and chocolate – when Senan arrived at the clearing.

Anima smiled up at him in greeting. When she’d first met him Senan had been about eighteen or nineteen years old (he couldn’t remember the exact number), with brown shaggy hair, blue eyes and fair skin browned as much as it could be by the sun. Now, aged almost fifty, there was grey peppered through the hair on his head and beard, and deep lines around his eyes from many years of laughter and work. His answering smile to her was subdued, and she noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Me wife died a few days ago,” he said, sitting down beside her. 

“What? Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to help,” Anima asked. 

“I was away,” Senan said sadly. “I was out lookin’ over the northern villages. They say she was fine in the mornin’, but took ill with the shivers at midday, she was gone by nightfall.”

Anima looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Her relationship with Senan had always been complicated. Young lovers with too many responsibilities to leave their respective realms, they had agreed to maintain a friendship as a compromise to what they had always longed for. Senan had married his wife out of obligation as his people’s king. Anima had remained in Asgard to help protect and defend it from magical attacks. 

“She was a good woman,” Senan said. “She didn’t love me, but she was constant and supportive, and she loved our children very much. I hope she’s found her peace in Tír na nÓg. We buried her last night.”

Anima picked up a stick and awkwardly poked the fire. “I’m sure she has,” she said, looking at the flames. 

“Sorry to be so glum for you, Ani-darlin’,” Senan said, giving her a sad smile.

“No, this is a sad time, I don’t want you to hide it,” Anima said. “How are your children taking it?”

“Me son’s bein’ all stoic and proud, but I know he’s hurtin’ when he’s out watchin’ the sheep,” Senan said. “Me daughters are sufferin’. They were close to their mother and were there when she fell ill. She would have been gone already by the time I got the message, although I hurried back as fast as I could.”

“Do you want to be with them?” Anima asked. “I can go, until next time.”

Senan sighed heavily. “Is it selfish to stay?” he asked. “I’d like to have a night talkin’ of things beyond my little world. Hearin’ your stories of faraway places always brings me a restless kind of peace.”

“I’ve never heard peace being referred to as restless before,” Anima said.

“It’s only because I’d like to see them for myself sometimes, but that’s not really a good idea. There’s always somethin’ here which needs to be worked out,” Senan said. “Just tell me what you’ve been doin’ since the last time I laid eyes on you.”

Anima obliged, telling him about her adventure down to the heart of Asgard and about the tomb and the giant, acid-spitting snake. She had to describe what a snake was as the part of Midgard he lived on didn’t have any. He listened in silence, staring at the fire, but did turn to look at her in surprise when she described blowing a hole in its head with a blast of magic.

“You will never not surprise me with things like that,” he said. “I know you can do anythin’ – look at you, still a young woman when I’m an aging old man – but still, killin’ a giant snake with magic.”

His statement reminded Anima of the other thing she did during their meetings together, and she surreptitiously sent a regeneration spell in his direction. It was not the same as hers; she felt that keeping him looking forever young would eventually alarm his people and they might do something violent out of fear of the unknown, but it worked on his heart and lungs and joints, keeping them healthy as when he was a much younger man.

“I think the man in the tomb was tasked with claiming our world as the new Asgard,” she finished. “Mimir’s Well is a sign that we are connected to Yggdrasil, in fact there’s an outlet for the Well on every one of the nine realms. Somehow he must have called it to its new location, at least, that’s my working theory.”

“Seems like a plausible one,” Senan said, looking up as the stars began to show in the growing darkness.

“When is your son’s wedding?” Anima asked. “A month ago you said he was about to get married.”

“It was supposed to be in a week,” Senan said, “But they’re waitin’ a month instead out of respect.”

Anima nodded. “Can I give you something to give to him?” She asked, pulling a talisman out of her bag. “It’s spelled with low level healing spells. If his wife puts it under her bedding while in childbirth it’ll help make everything go smoothly. I learnt how to do it a few years ago.”

Senan took the talisman with a smile. “You’re a good woman, Ani,” he said. “I’ll present it to them at the weddin’. They’ll be delighted and a little afraid.”

“I wish people wouldn’t fear me,” Anima said. “I know they think I’m one of the Fey but I’m not, and magic ought not to be feared anyway. It’s just another skill some people have.”

Midgard had once been the greatest centre of magic in the nine realms, but the war against the Titans had massacred every magic user on Midgard, and left behind a generation that had never seen it and who had lost their connection to their more educated and less superstitious ancestors. Senan himself had thought Anima was a fairy princess the day he’d met her, and had only come to believe otherwise on his one and only trip to Asgard.

“That’s just the way things are,” Senan said. “Everyone’s a little afraid of what lurks in the dark, everyone tells stories of the spirits hauntin’ the forest or creepin’ into your home at night if you don’t guard against them.”

“If there were any spirits here I would chase them away,” Anima said bluntly.

“I believe you, Ani-darlin’, but you’ll never convince them that there’s nothing to fear. If they stop fearin’ the dark it’s only because they’ll fear you instead,” Senan said.

****

Anima returned to Asgard in a sombre mood. She reappeared in her bedroom and immediately eyed the half-packed bag she’d left behind. It was intended for her trip to Vanaheim, but she hated packing almost as much as Daianya.

 _Nal! Where are you? I need help doing boring stuff!_ she called in her head.

“I’m in my room!” Nal yelled back.

Anima crossed the landing and let herself into Nal’s room.

“You’ve almost reached the dome,” she said, looking up at where Nal’s carvings had covered her bedframe, the window sill and the wood panelling that reached up towards the ceiling.

“It’s a good thing it’s so large, it ought to take me a while to cover it,” Nal said. She was writing what looked like a series of instructions on a piece of paper.

“What are you up to?” Anima asked.

“I’m writing out what I’ve packed for Daianya and what accessories she should wear with each gown,” Nal said. “She’s hopeless at figuring it out by herself.

“She’s not big on jewellery,” Anima said. “It catches on things and she’s too much of a warrior to want that happening.”

“True, but it’s not like she’s colour blind, she can see well enough to coordinate if she wanted to,” Nal said. “She just doesn’t.”

“Actually, I was wondering,” Anima started.

“I finished packing your clothes last night,” Nal said. “The bag on your bed is the leftovers, don’t take it.”

Anima grinned. “I like dressing up but you’re really good at it,” she said.

Nal rolled her eyes, “One day I may even get the chance to do so,” she said. “There, finished. I’ll just go and put this on top of everything in her bag and then you can call for the servants to take it down to the Bifrost. You’re leaving in two hours.”

“I know, I cut thing close, but Senan was sad and I didn’t want to leave him,” Anima said. “His wife died.”

“Already?” Nal asked.

“Mortals aren’t as robust as the rest of the nine realms,” Anima said. “She caught some kind of chill which took her in hours. If he’d been there he could have called on me for help, but he wasn’t and so she died.”

“Even mortals aren’t normally that fragile, are they?” Nal asked. “You’d break if you fell down the stairs but you don’t get deadly chills.”

Anima sighed heavily. “Midgard isn’t what it used to be,” she said. “They fight to survive, scratch out their food as best they can and work hard to achieve things that were easy when Mother was alive.”

“Easy because of magic?” Nal asked.

Anima nodded. “Magic was a part of who we were, and deep down inside you can tell they miss it. They tell stories about it all the time, and some people even pretend to have it, and despite their spells never working other people still believe in them. Mortals have lost so much of who they used to be.”

“So after this trip to Vanaheim, are you moving to Midgard?” Nal asked her.

Anima looked shocked. “What? No! That’s… that’s…”

“You two have loved one another for your entire lives,” Nal said. “He’s free now, so why wouldn’t you take the chance?”

Anima turned away from her, shame colouring her cheeks. “I thought about it,” she admitted, “As soon as he told me that his wife had died the thought crept into my head like a bad smell. I’m a terrible person, the poor woman was only buried two days ago.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible,” Nal said, “But then maybe I’m not the best judge. But I think it’s okay to have thoughts as long as you don’t say them out loud. You never met her, she was married to the man you love, both of them respected one another but there was no love between them. I think it’s natural to think about your future now that you might have one. You don’t have to rush down there right away, but maybe next time you see him you can ask how he feels about it.”

Anima looked up again with a small smile. “I do love him,” she said. “I never stopped. And after all this time I don’t think Asgard needs me anymore, and even if they do you or Daianya can call on me and I’ll teleport back immediately. It’s not like when we were young and I didn’t know I could do it without the tesseract yet.”

Nal nodded. “Go and have a life, Anima,” she said. “You deserve it.”

****

Frigga hit the dirt hard and bit back a groan of pain.

“Sorry,” Tiree said, offering her a hand.

Frigga took it and let herself be hauled to her feet. “Why did I ask to train with you again?” she asked.

Tiree shrugged. “Because we’re incredibly awesome?” she suggested with a smile.

Frigga stretched out her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m going to feel this in the morning,” she said, taking up a defensive stance.

“Are you sure you don’t want a break?” Tiree asked.

“No. I’m ready,” Frigga said.

A few minutes later she was on her back again, coughing as the wind was driven from her lungs.

“You’re pretty good for someone who hasn’t done consistent training,” Tiree said encouragingly.

“Liar,” Frigga groaned.

“No, really, we’ve been training daily since we were children,” Tiree said. “You’ve only been doing it sporadically for the last hundred years. You’re pretty good under the circumstances.”

Frigga rolled to her knees and forced one leg under her. It still took a moment before she could rise fully.

“If I were to join the Valkyrie, would it be like this every day?” she asked, “Assuming that they’d even want me to join as an adult.”

“It’s be a rough start,” Tiree confirmed, “The Valkyrie is not something you join unless you know for certain that you want to be there. It’s a hard job and a not something you can do casually.”

Frigga nodded and staggered over to the trees where Haewkyr was sitting in the shade, watching her while eating grapes.

“You actually got airborne that last time,” he said cheerfully.

Frigga slowly sat down next to him, trying not to wince. “I need to put in a lot more work if I want to be a shield maiden,” she said.

Haewkyr offered her a grape. “Are you certain that’s what you want to be?” he asked her. “It’s a hard life. These women face danger every time they’re called to battle. A shield maiden’s life is no different.”

Frigga frowned at him. “You said you’d support me,” she said.

“And I will,” Haewkyr said, “But your choices aren’t ‘get married’ or ‘be a shield maiden’ is all I’m saying.”

“I won’t be my mother’s daughter,” Frigga said.

“I’m not saying you will, in fact I know you can’t be,” Haewkyr said. “Mother is and always will be a very special type of person, and I know you two don’t always get along. But… that’s because of how alike you are… personality-wise.”

Frigga glared at him, pressing her lips together to avoid saying something she would regret.

“You’re not as socially exuberant, I’ll grant you, but you are just as stubborn, just as fearless, just as brave,” Haewkyr said.

“Father was fearless, _and_ brave,” Frigga retorted. “You weren’t born before he died, you wouldn’t know.”

“Did you really enjoy getting your butt kicked?” Haewkyr said, “Because if you don’t enjoy it then you won’t make it as a shield maiden _or_ a Valkyrie.”

“No one enjoys it,” Frigga said. “But it’s the only way to get better. And I’d rather be my father’s daughter than my mother’s.”

“And what I’m saying is you don’t have to choose one or the other. You have half of each of your parents. You don’t have to be a shield maiden and you don’t have to pretend that managing social situations is a chore just to defy Mother. It’s alright to be good at it and even enjoy it without agreeing to all of her plans,” Haewkyr said. “Father was a terrible manager of his estate, Mother was brilliant at it. I’m doing very well because of the lessons I learnt from _her_. Maybe the path you forge doesn’t have to be so divided?”

Frigga shook her head. “You don’t understand. Even now I can feel her plans settling down on me. When we return to court it will only get worse. I have to leave again or I’ll be trapped by her forever.”

Haewkyr sighed and offered her a grape. “Just be sure, Sister, it’s a hard life you are planning and I want to know you’ll be happy at the end of it.”


	25. The Approaching Threat

Thanos’ ship was less than three days out from Vanaheim when he rendezvoused with Brokkr and Tanzir. He waited silently as their ship docked and the Dwarf and his companion/bodyguard appeared.

“Lord Thanos,” Brokkr greeted warmly. Thanos inclined his head.

“Have the thieves managed to retrieve the tesseract yet?” he asked.

Brokkr’s slight pause before speaking told Thanos the answer even before he confirmed it. “Not yet, my Lord, but I intend to assist in creating an opportunity for them,” he said.

Thanos waited in silence.

“I have contacted the leader of one of the Kronan factions and he has agreed to attack one of the mining colonies under Asgard’s protection. King Bor will have no choice but to send half the army away from Asgard, leaving the remaining half to defend both their own realm and Vanaheim during your attack. The reduced numbers will reduce security on the palace at a most vulnerable time. By the time you have subdued Vanaheim the tesseract will be on its way to you,” Brokkr said, smiling.

“That is good news,” Thanos said. “The tesseract becomes more important with each passing day, my people are suffering and I must save them.”

Brokkr bowed and nodded at once. “This will be the first strike of vengeance against King Bor, for both of us,” he said.

“And Odin?” Thanos asked.

“I have some interesting news regarding Odin,” Tanzir said. “He is expected to travel to Vanaheim tomorrow and stay for about a week.”

Thanos started in alarm. “I must not face him,” he snapped. “He is the only one I have ever seen resist the Mind Stone, he cannot be at the site of my attack!”

“And he won’t be,” Tanzir said smoothly. “I have already made arrangements to remove him from Vanaheim, possibly permanently, definitely for long enough for you to carry out your plans.”

Thanos leaned back in his chair and regarded Tanzir cautiously. “And what is it you intend to do?” he asked. 

Tanzir held up a small sphere and smiled. “Relocation bomb. Opens a portal and blasts whoever it hits through a randomly generated wormhole. Those that survive could end up anywhere in the universe, or any time.”

“Odin might end up thrown back into the past?” Thanos asked.

“Or the future,” Tanzir said. “Or not move through time at all. It’s a wonderful little device that I acquired at great cost.”

“You will be rewarded,” Thanos said. 

****

Anima met Odin at the stables where their horses had been saddled for the ride to the Bifrost. Their bags were being tied across the back of the pack horse by the servants and Odin himself was already in the saddle.

“Eager to get going?” Anima asked him.

“It’s been a long time since I had a holiday,” Odin said. “I’d like to get started before something happens and I have to stay behind.”

Anima swung up into her saddle easily and took the reins. “Asgard is as peaceful as it’s ever been,” she said.

“Yes, but with peace comes paperwork,” Odin answered, “And I am rather looking forward to not doing any for a while.”

“It must be difficult to be so busy,” Anima said, “To never have enough time to talk to family.”

Odin gave her a warning look. “I know you think Nal’s been hard done by, but after what she did my response has been extremely light,” he said.

“Practically non-existent,” Anima said, urging her horse into a canter.

Odin’s face fell and he turned in the saddle to look up at the Princess Tower. Nal’s bedroom was just visible from this angle, and the bright spray of purple and pink flowers from her climbing vines made it look far more cheerful than its regular occupant.

With a sigh he turned away. Now was not the time. At least part of this visit was for diplomatic purposes and he had to focus. He urged his horse to get going, following Anima’s out of the gate and down the main street towards the distant Bifrost.

The rainbow bridge was a frightening thing to the uninitiated. It had been built generations before, and that generation had clearly not had much time or respect for safety railings. The bridge stretched out for a mile before reaching the mechanism at the end, insurance against anyone who would try to use it to invade. Marching an army down the length without losing people over the edge would take iron discipline.

Odin dismounted at the far end and glanced, as he often did, over the side for a moment, observing the various stars, gas clouds and wormholes present so close to the edge of their atmosphere. Most realms weren’t so precariously placed, but then most realms were round and formed by gravity. Asgard’s unusual shape and position always made Odin feel a sense of pride at their uniqueness. It wasn’t a logical sense, it wasn’t as though anyone had had a hand in it, but still, Asgard was special.

He nodded to the gatekeeper, who entered the coordinates for Vanaheim and stood ready to activate the Bifrost.

“Are we going to have a pleasant time?” he asked Anima.

For a moment she held the stubborn look on her face, but then her expression softened. “We don’t spend much time together, do we Father?” she asked with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “And well… there’s something I need to tell you, when we get back.”

Odin frowned in confusion. “What is it?” he asked.

Anima shook her head. “Let’s just enjoy our holiday. I won’t bug you about Nal and you can let the work of the realm go for a little while. Deal?”

“Deal,” Odin said, although he was still curious about what it was she wanted to tell him.

“Let’s go and have some fun,” Anima said with her usual cheerfulness.

****

They arrived in a flash of light to find King Dimcken and Queen Boaldia waiting for them. Odin and Anima bowed to the King in respect and he returned the gesture with a smaller bow. 

“Welcome to Vanaheim, Prince Odin, Princess Anima,” King Dimcken said. “I have heard from my son and he and Princess Daianya are expected to arrive by flyer this afternoon. Will you join my queen and me for refreshment?”

“We would be delighted to,” Odin said, looking from one to the other.

Queen Boaldia smiled broadly as she looked over Anima. “You are very different in appearance to you sister,” she commented as they walked toward the king’s private rooms where drinks were waiting.

“We all look very different,” Anima said, “Which makes it a lot easier to tell us apart, because we also look the same.”

“So I can see. I am familiar with Princess Daianya’s features, and I must say it is somewhat… startling, to see them reflected so closely in you.”

Anima almost shrugged, then remembered that Princesses usually didn’t, and settled for a smile instead. “We’ve always been a little unusual,” she said.

“And you are the Goddess of Magic?” Queen Boaldia confirmed, “Quite an impressive title. We watched the Convergence from the balcony of course, but the conflict in which I have been told you truly shone was nothing more than some flashing lights to us here.”

“That’s a good thing, it was terrifying close up,” Anima said.

Further ahead, King Dimcken and Odin were walking side by side. 

“I do hope that our two children have gotten along well,” Dimcken said. “I have only heard reports of great enjoyment among everyone in the party.”

“I’m glad to hear Daianya has had a good time,” Odin said. “Vanaheim is a beautiful realm.”

“Do you think she’d like it well enough to stay?” Dimcken asked.

Odin silently cursed Dimcken’s complete and utter lack of tact, but out loud he said “I am not privy to my father’s plans on any such matters.”

****

Daianya looked out the window of the flyer as it approached the Vanir palace in a wide arc. She was painfully aware of Tarah sitting beside her, and of the fact that she still hadn’t told her of her feelings.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, it was just that every time she tried she thought of another thing that they would have to deal with. Tarah joining her at feasts? She’d never even gone to one and she’d go right to sitting at the high table. Tarah being on her squad and under her command? It wasn’t expressly forbidden but would a relationship change the command dynamic, and what would Daianya do about it if it did? Tarah being watched every moment as soon as people knew she was in a relationship with one of the princesses, and not just any princess, the one who _supposed_ to have the next generation of royals. Whether she was meant to be or not, the assumption from the people of Asgard was that Daianya was the _good_ one. Not just well behaved, although recently that had also become an issue, but the one that wasn’t violently unstable, wasn’t Jotun, wasn’t a Mortal. 

_If I were someone else, I wouldn’t hesitate,_ she thought, risking a glance at where Tarah sat.

 _If I were someone else, I wouldn’t be having this delicious cake,_ Anima thought in her head. _Tell her, then you can be as happy as me and this cake._

Daianya turned back to the face the window so that she could roll her eyes in peace.

 _Tell her because you want to,_ Nal thought to her. _Take the risk, Sister, the worst that can happen is a broken heart, and people have survived worse._

Daianya took a deep breath. They were sitting together, everyone else was distracted. She could just talk quietly.

She turned to face Tarah and went to speak.

“Coming in now,” the pilot said, making her jump.

Tarah noticed and shot her a smile. “Don’t tell me you just got scared by a flight announcement,” she said.

“Alright, I won’t tell you,” Daianya said.

She turned and looked back out of the window. _I’ll do it when we land,_ she thought.

 _Liar,_ twin voices echoed in her head.

****

Anima had finished her cake and was sipping at a sweet wine when a new person arrived in the reception room. She was an older lady, beautiful and _very_ well made up. Anima felt grubby just looking at her.

Queen Boaldia immediately broke into a broad smile. “Lady Wearveil,” she announced, making everyone turn and look.

Lady Wearveil sank into a deep curtsey with a level of grace that made Anima envious. “Your Majesties, your Graces,” she said in a clear, confident voice as smooth as honey.

Anima shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to another. 

“Prince Odin, Princess Anima, may I present my good friend and Lady in Waiting, Lady Wearveil,” Queen Boaldia said.

Anima gave her as graceful a nod of acknowledgement as she could manage. Lady Wearveil beamed at her as though she’d done something utterly marvellous. 

“I’m very pleased to meet you, my lady,” Odin said, giving her nod of his own. “I have heard from Queen Boaldia how invaluable you are to the court.”

Lady Wearveil turned her beaming smile onto him. “I do only what any courtier ought, your Grace,” she said in reply.

King Dimcken gave her a broad smile of his own. “Lady Wearveil is responsible for so many of our celebrations, in fact she has organised a grand outdoor party in a few days’ time, in order to show off our beautiful city and share it’s wealth with the people.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Odin said politely.

Lady Wearveil’s eyes turned back to Anima, who resisted the urge to check the corners of her mouth for stray cake crumbs. “Your Grace, I hope you and your sister will enjoy the celebrations. In fact my own daughter, Sar Frigga, will be happy to show you through the city. She is currently travelling with Princess Daianya and I’m sure will be most happy to meet you as well.”

Anima’s mind had gone blank. The only thing she could think to say was ‘thanks’, but that was hardly the response expected of a princess.

 _Oh for the love of Yggdrasil, repeat after me,_ thought Nal in her head. _Thank you Lady Wearveil, I look forward to meeting your daughter and seeing all the wonders that Vanaheim, and you, have to show me._

Anima repeated the words faithfully, letting them slip past her tongue like the aliens they were. If she stopped to think about what she was saying she’d probably stutter. Even so, she got the distinct impression that Lady Wearveil had her all figured out already.

****

It was about half an hour later that someone new arrived. Vé Borson, youngest and somewhat estranged brother of Odin, stepped into the room and scanned it with an observant gaze. He spotted his brother and made his way over as unobtrusively as possible.

Odin saw him just as he reached speaking range and his face brightened. “Brother,” he said and reached out to pull Vé into a hug.

Like Vili, Vé was taller than Odin by a few inches; unlike Vili, he had less of their father’s looks and more of his mother’s. His face was narrow and his chin rather pointed, and the irises of his eyes were undeniably red.

“Brother,” he greeted in turn. “I was spending my summer here at court and I heard you would be visiting. How are you?”

“I’m well,” Odin said, “Very well, and yourself?”

“I have been fine,” Vé said. “My estate here has had a profitable year, and my wife and I have been healthy and happy.”

Vé’s wife had been the second strike against him. She was Alfish, and had the same mischievous nature so inherent in her species. Bor had hated her from the start. The first strike had been when Vé had vocally and publically refused to take up arms… ever. He believed very much that the nine realms ought to work together as one people – after all they and they alone were connected by Yggdrasil – and that any fighting of any kind between them was an abomination.

“I’m glad,” Odin said. 

The conversation paused awkwardly. The two brothers had little to talk about, they loved one another but had wildly opposing views on most subjects.

“I hear two of your daughters with you, are they here now?” Vé asked.

“Anima is,” Odin said, latching on to the topic gratefully. “She’s over there, let me introduce you.”

He led Vé to where Anima was standing and making polite conversation with an older Lord.

“Father, this is Lord Smairken, father to Sir Kinndyr, who has gone on holiday with Daianya,” she said as they approached.

Lord Smairken gave Odin a bow and Vé a smile. “I am pleased to meet you, your Grace, Lord Vé, I am glad you could make it,” he said.

Vé grinned at him. “My lands border Lord Smairken’s, although they are far less extensive,” he said.

“Anima, this is your uncle, Vé,” Odin said, privately noting Vé’s rejection of his royal title in favour of a lower Vanir one.

Anima gave him a big grin and bobbed a quick curtsey. “Uncle Vili told me all about when you were children, pranking Father,” she said brightly. “But he wouldn’t tell me about the pond incident, do have any such reservations?” 

Vé chuckled in spite of himself and Odin felt his shoulders relax. Anima had a way of charming almost anyone.

****

“Princess Anima is extremely charming,” Lady Wearveil said to Queen Boaldia, “Especially the men.”

“She’s charming to everyone, the men fall harder for it,” Queen Boaldia said. “I don’t think it’s calculated, she’s just a nice girl, but she makes the older ones want to look after her and the younger ones want to take her out dancing.”

“Pity she’s Mortal,” Lady Wearveil said. “I can think of one or two young men who would be a perfect match for her.”

“Oh you, always working away trying to match people up,” Queen Boaldia said with a smile. “Do you ever rest?”

“Why would I need to rest when I’m having so much fun?” Lady Wearveil countered. “It’s just my little hobby.”

“And who have you found for my Dorgen?” Queen Boaldia asked, still smiling.

“Your Grace I would not dream of making a match for a Prince,” Lady Wearveil said, “Such a matter is for his mother alone. Of course, if you ever request assistance I will be only too happy to oblige.”

Queen Boaldia laughed cheerfully as the door opened one more time. Prince Norbleen, freshly arrived and even more freshly washed and groomed, entered the room followed by his friends and the group of Valkyrie. He waved in greeting to his father, who came rushing over.

“My boy! You are back!” Dimcken announced loud enough for the room to hear.

“Yes Father, we arrived half an hour ago and I thought you wouldn’t mind if we joined your gathering,” Norbleen said.

“Of course not, of course not,” Dimcken said. He glanced over at the Valkyrie in their best, but still commoner clothing. “Of course not,” he repeated. “And where is Princess Daianya?”

“Here, your Grace,” Daianya said from the back of the group. She’d slipped in after everyone else, but only because her hair had once again delayed her arrival.

The group parted and Daianya walked forwards. She’d followed a servant to her assigned palace rooms to find her bag of ‘princess clothes’ unpacked and waiting for her, along with the instructions from Nal. Now she wore a floor length dress of light blue, with a paler blue sash and loose sleeves to her elbow. There was a matching ribbon doing its best to keep her hair back and a silver necklace around her neck. The high choker which held her pendant was now carefully tucked into a pocket, leaving her slender neck on display.

Kinndyr leaned over until he was close enough to murmur in Haewkyr’s ear. “Whoa,” he muttered.

“Princess Daianya, you look lovely,” King Dimcken said.

Norbleen waited until his father’s back was turned before sticking his tongue out at her. Daianya shot him a serious look ruined by the smile she couldn’t quite keep from her face.

On the other side of the room, Lady Wearveil watched with shrewd eyes as Daianya went to greet her father. 

“If you will excuse me, your Grace,” she said to the Queen, “I must greet my children.”


	26. An Indiscreet Woman

Frigga was intimidated. She didn’t want to be intimidated, but despite the fact that she was wearing a rather fine and well fitted dress herself, Daianya’s transformation from Valkyrie to Princess had her rattled.

A second later she was stopped by her mother, who reached out to embrace her warmly. 

“Frigga my darling, how was your holiday?” Lady Wearveil asked.

“Wonderful, Mother, I feel so refreshed,” Frigga said.

“I’m glad to hear it, and did you make some new friends?” Lady Wearveil asked.

“Yes, Mother, Princess Daianya and her friends are all lovely,” Frigga said.

She could tell from the look in her mother’s eye that the question had not been about Princess Daianya. For a moment Frigga contemplated rebelling, after all, they were in public and her mother would rather die than make a scene, but the fight didn’t seem worth it.

“Sir Kinndyr is a very nice young man, as are the rest of Prince Norbleen’s friends,” she said.

Lady Wearveil’s eyebrow twitched just slightly and she looked across at where Daianya was greeting her sister with a hug. “The Prince’s interest was elsewhere?” she asked.

Frigga’s smile was entirely genuine while also being one hundred percent guiltily misleading when she said, “Yes Mother, he was quite diverted.”

“Hmm,” Lady Wearveil said. “I suppose these things can’t be helped. I am glad to see you so well, the sunshine of the west appears to have agreed with you.”

“It rains very heavily in the winter,” Frigga said.

“That’s why court exists,” Lady Wearveil said without missing a beat. 

“Excuse us, please, I was hoping to introduce my sister to Frigga,” Daianya said, stepping within hearing range.

Lady Wearveil at once gave a bright and perfect smile, and followed it with a curtsey that would make a ballerina envious. “Princess Daianya, I am delighted to meet you,” she said.

Frigga gave a curtsey of her own, it was every bit as perfect as her mother’s, and yet she still felt vaguely as though she had failed at it somehow.

“This is my sister, Anima,” Daianya said to Frigga as both women rose. “Frigga has studied magic extensively,” she added to Anima, who smiled.

“I am pleased to meet you, your Grace,” Frigga said. “I have read some of your papers on spells of healing, and how they can be improved even when working under pressure.”

Anima’s smile widened even more. “The old spells just seemed so messy,” she said. 

“You wrote extensively on the use of pain management as a way to reduce shock to the patient and help increase the chances of survival from battlefield to healer’s rooms, I was wondering whether you had ever considered a hybrid spell, something to combine stopping the bleeding or wounds with pain reduction simultaneously?” Frigga asked.

Anima immediately began launching into her research on that very subject as Lady Wearveil and Daianya turned to face one another.

“Did you enjoy the sights of our realm, your Grace?” Lady Wearveil asked politely.

“Very much, but there’s still much more to see,” Dainaya said.

“Are you hoping to return soon?” Lady Wearveil asked her.

“Not for a while,” Daianya said. “Gaining leave from the Valkyrie is not something that can be done too often.”

“I remember being told you were a Valkyrie, it must take great skill and determination to maintain such a punishing lifestyle,” Lady Wearveil said.

Frigga was far too ladylike to ever have a twitch in her eye, but it was a close thing.

Daianya smiled politely. “It’s a demanding commitment, but one I would not trade for anything,” she said.

Lady Wearveil was for too ladylike to raise an eyebrow at that statement, but what she did do is smile politely and ask, “Anything, your Grace? You intend to make it a career?”

Daianya nodded firmly. “I do, yes my Lady,” she said.

Anima glanced at Frigga. “Do you want to be a sorceress? You’ve got the talent for it, I can see.”

Frigga found herself frozen. She knew she should seize on the opportunity to say she wanted to be a shield maiden in a place where her mother couldn’t object or argue, but after training with the Valkyrie and experiencing their deep level of commitment, she was no longer sure that wanted to pursue it.

“I’m not certain,” she said, “I thought I might take a few more lessons at the Tower now that I am at court.”

Anima grinned. “I’ve been wanting to see the Tower for years,” she said. “It’s got the biggest collection of magical books and scrolls in the nine realms.”

****

At the other end of the room, the Valkyrie were watching Daianya make polite conversation.

“It’s alright,” Tiree said to Tarah sympathetically, “She’s always had another role, we just didn’t see it until now.”

“I think I’d like to go home,” Tarah said. “I think I’d like to sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Just because she can turn into a princess in less than half an hour doesn’t mean that you don’t have a shot,” Norah said stubbornly.

“I think it might,” Tarah said. “Can you imagine me in a dress like that standing alongside her? What would I even say to these people?”

“Ask them about their lands and their children,” Meydee said as Norah disappeared in the direction of the food table. “It’s all they care about around here.”

“Not true,” said Haewkyr from behind them, making them all jump. “We also care about the quality of the wine.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you, Lord Haewkyr, I apologise,” Meydee said.

Haewkyr looked at her as though she’d grown another head. “We’ve just spent the last month making friends, don’t deny me now,” he said. “You’re not completely wrong, there’s a lot of old blood and older money in this room, but underneath it all there’s a lot of normal people too. Like your princess, she’s normal. She puts on the dress and plays the part but her smile is as fake as a wax fire grate. She’d be happier at the training yards right now, I think.” 

Norah returned and wordlessly handed Tarah a piece of cake. “We’ll go home tonight if you want,” she said. “Technically we aren’t invited to stay anyway, it’s just that no one has noticed that we are still here yet.”

Tarah nodded. “I think that’s best,” she said.

“Try the cake, it’s very good and the sugar might make you feel a bit better,” Norah said.

****

Frigga left the party as the afternoon dimmed and made her way back to her rooms, wanting to rest for a week but knowing that instead she’d have to change and be down in the feast hall by dinnertime.

She was utterly, thoroughly, horribly confused, and Haewkyr was off with Prince Norbleen so she had no one to talk to.

She pushed open her door and sighed in relief as she kicked off her heels. When she’d left the Academy she’s been so sure that she wanted to be a shield maiden. She’d had visions of nights on the road and defending the weak, but it had only taken a few hard training sessions against actual warriors for her to realise just how far she had to go if she wanted to pursue her dream. 

And she didn’t want to. The thought felt small and nasty in her head, but she didn’t _want_ to spend all the hours in her day constantly training with the sword. She didn’t want to spend hours every night practicing her healing spells, or blinding spells, or trapping spells. 

Her father had been a warrior. He had trained all the time. Frigga remembered watching him out in the training yard back home, always swinging, always riding, always shooting. Her mother would call for him to come inside and deal with his tenants, or manage his taxes, and he would shot Frigga a smile and a wink and call out that he was coming, but he never did. It had felt like a game back then. A special game that was just for the two of them. 

But then he had gone away to fight and never come home, and it turned out those taxes and tenants and things had been important after all. 

Frigga sighed heavily. Her mother was so overbearing, all Frigga wanted was to be as little like her as possible… but she wasn’t certain that she wanted to be like her father either.

“Who am I?” she whispered, looking at herself in the mirror.

Blue eyes set in a face like her mother’s stared back at her. Blond hair with a frizz like her father’s framed the face. Her nose was her mother’s. Her chin and jaw came from her father. Her eyebrows were his, her cheekbones her mother’s. And right now, Frigga wished she didn’t have any of it.

The sound of a door being shoved open and quickly shut caught her attention and she rose and knocked on the adjoining room door. “Amora?” she asked.

“Go away! You traitorous cow!” Amora snapped from the other side of the door. 

Alarmed, Frigga pushed the door open and walked in, staring in confusion at the sight of Amora throwing her things into a bag as fast as she could.

“What’s going on? Why are you packing?” Frigga asked.

“Really? You stand there and ask me that?” Amora snapped. “You betrayed me.”

“What are you talking about, I only just got back from holiday,” Frigga said. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because if I don’t, Lady Fauri, Lord Cheratyr’s wife, will have me sold to the nearest whorehouse!” Amora said.

“She can’t do that,” Frigga said, still confused.

“Maybe not to you, but whose going to stand up for the commoner?” Amora asked. “She caught me with her husband and threatened me right to my face. And he just _stood there_ , didn’t even try to defend me or anything.”

“Lord Cheratyr is one of the wealthiest men in the realm, but that’s because his wife owns a lot of land that came as her dowry,” Frigga said, her mother’s lessons on court intrigue popping into her head as easily as some of her first year spells. “He can’t afford to stand up for you even if he wanted to.”

Amora scowled. “How did she catch me at all?” she asked, glaring at Frigga.

“Because you were massively indiscreet,” Frigga snapped, angry at the unspoken accusation. “I didn’t tell a soul!”

Amora just threw more of her clothes into her bag. “She said if I’m not off Vanaheim within three days she’ll have me arrested for stealing jewellery, jewellery that he _gave_ me. She took it all off me and said she’d make sure I was sent to prison or poverty. She called me a whore.”

Frigga shook her head in disbelief. “She can’t banish you from the whole of Vanaheim,” she said. “I’ll speak to Prince Norbleen, he’s a fair man, even though you were indiscreet he won’t have you exiled from the whole realm for that.”

Amora paused in her packing to give Frigga a filthy look. “You just don’t get it, do you?” she said. “I am nothing to these people. Nothing. I really thought that if I made the right connections that my commoner blood wouldn’t matter, but no, everyone here, even you, is just another bloody noble.”

Frigga frowned. “We’ve been friends for centuries, don’t you put me in with someone like Lady Fauri,” she said. “She’s got a right to be angry but trying to banish you is well outside of her authority.”

“So?” Amora said. “So Prince Norbleen tells her she can’t do that, then I still get kicked out of the palace and left on my own. All it takes out there in the city is one dark alley and a paid man and I’m dead anyway. No one is going to investigate that. No one is going to hold Lady Fauri accountable. This whole place is disgusting, and you’re a part of it, every noble here deserves to be thrown down and executed for the way they treat commoners.”

“You slept with a married man,” Frigga said. “You knew the consequences if you got caught! True, she shouldn’t be able to threaten you like this, Vanaheim needs a drastic overhaul of its more privileged members, but you had to see that getting kicked out of the palace was a real possibility.”

Amora just shook her head. “I wish you all the misery this place has to offer,” she said. “I wish you nothing but misery your whole life, Frigga. You deserve this place.”

Then she hefted the bag across her shoulders and walked out.

Frigga stared after her in alarm before running to her mother’s room and banging on the door.

“Frigga, a Lady doesn’t bang on doors,” Lady Wearveil said as she pulled it open.

“Amora is being threatened by Lady Fauri. If she doesn’t leave Vanaheim she’ll be killed,” Frigga said.

“I’m surprised it took Lady Fauri so long,” Lady Wearveil said. “The affair was hardly secret.”

“Can’t we do something?” Frigga said, “Offer her protection? Safety on our lands? She can’t be banished from the whole of Vanaheim, that’s ridiculous!”

“Be calm, Frigga, a lady is always calm,” Lady Wearveil said. “And the answer is no. Amora came here as your lady companion and she was accepted based on yours, and my, recommendation. Her behaviour has caused a minor scandal and is an embarrassment for us. Now if she had been unfairly accused or mistreated then we could have responded and stained Lady Fauri’s reputation, but instead to prevent this minor scandal becoming a major one we must let Amora go. She’s a clever girl, although not very wise, I’m sure she’ll make something of herself once she’s away from anywhere that knows her.”

“She’s my friend,” Frigga said.

“She should have acted like it,” Lady Wearveil said. “Amora is no innocent maiden, Frigga, she is ambitious and cunning, but too young and impulsive and it backfired. Letting her go at this point will be the kindest thing for her, because raising a fuss for a woman who tried to ruin a marriage will cause nothing but trouble at this court.”

“But exile? No one has the authority to do that except the King,” Frigga said.

“And I can guarantee that Lady Fauri will have been very careful not to have been overheard when she made her threat. She will have spoken in well-understood and yet cryptic words, and even under a truth spell will be able to claim she made no _true_ banishment,” Lady Wearveil said. “At this point it is safer for Amora to leave Vanaheim, but no law will have been broken.”

“You won’t help her?” Frigga asked.

“I _can’t_ help her,” Lady Wearveil corrected. “As flattered that I am that you seem to think I can do anything, I assure you, Daughter, that my power comes mostly from confidence and the careful maintaining of friendships and alliances. I cannot change the anger of a scorned woman, and I cannot guarantee Amora’s safety. Let her go.”

“She wished me all the misery in Vanaheim,” Frigga said.

“Then she is more of a fool than even I thought,” Lady Wearveil said. “The lesson that Amora has not learnt that I urge you to do so, is that burning true friendships because they cannot be everything you want them to be is a sure-fire way of having no friends at all.”


	27. Secrets and Lies

The meeting took place in the bowels of Grundroth’s palace. The conspirators were the sons of Morag, united in their hatred of Grundroth’s treatment of their brother and leader, Laufey. The topic of discussion was, as always, Grundroth’s heir and how to bring her back to Jotunheim.

“The three who tried the Cave?” Laufey asked.

“Presumed dead, they certainly haven’t returned,” said Cordyr. “No one’s expecting it now either, it’s been took long.”

Laufey smiled. “And our brothers?”

“Another of our brothers has secured a promotion,” said Friosten, “Second in command of the kitchen supplies.”

“That’s still not very high,” commented Vro.

“We’ve been at the King’s court for less than fifty years,” Laufey said, “It will take time to work our way up to positions of power. The important thing is to work hard and give no one any reason to suspect that we have ulterior motives. Second in command of kitchen supplies is good, it leads to more strategic areas. Pass along my congratulations.”

“I shall,” Friosten said.

“I still don’t know why we are doing this,” Vro said. “I support you, Brother, but I don’t see how this will bring our queen home to us.”

“It won’t, at least, not on its own,” Laufey said. “The plan to bring her here has yet to be launched, and it will take years to work out the details and find an opportunity, just as it will take years for us to be in high enough positions of power so that when she arrives we shall be in control of her court, not Grundroth’s trusted men, they will be suspicious of us and will interfere if we are not strong enough to oppose them. This is a long-term plan, Brothers, do not lose faith.”

They nodded and turned to go their separate ways.

“What if Grundroth decides to kill you before we’re ready?” Vro asked.

“Then I hope my brothers will warn me as quickly as they can so that I might flee,” Laufey said. “Until then, I shall continue to… serve.”

The last word was sneered. Laufey’s jobs consisted entirely of managing refuse of one kind or another. Grundroth actively encouraged others to throw garbage at him, or kick him into piles of it if they caught him scooping something up.

Laufey waited until he was certain they were gone before making his way through the tunnels beneath the palace and to the small hovel he’d carved for himself. He sat down in the semi-darkness and willed himself to find more patience. He had not been lying. This was a plan that would take years to execute correctly. If Grundroth died before the sons of Morag were in a position to take control of the court then Laufey’s only chance at glory would be lost. He didn’t expect her to even remember him from her last visit – Grundroth had loomed constantly in her presence – and their time together in the cave had been as brief as it had been alarming. He needed his brothers to support his rise to prominence the moment Grundroth was dead, otherwise he would languish in obscurity forever.

And so he sat, and practiced patience.

****

Anima was staring longingly at the enormous bed in her room in Vanaheim’s palace as she pulled on a pair of extremely pretty and, thankfully, comfortable shoes. It was almost time for dinner, but after the afternoon welcome party she was already feeling tired and wishing for sleep.

There was a knock on her door and she waved a hand to make it open.

“You’re tired,” Daianya commented, seeing where she was sitting in relation to the door.

“How was your holiday? I didn’t get a chance to ask,” Anima said.

“Frustrating,” Daianya said, closing the door behind her and coming to sit in one of the chairs opposite Anima. “I didn’t get proposed to, which was nice, but I also chickened out on telling Tarah how I feel and now she’s going home.”

“So tell her now? Do a mad dash to the Bifrost site and declare your love in open fashion… I’m joking,” Anima said, seeing the look on Daianya’s face. “What’s the real problem?”

Daianya sighed heavily. “She’s a commoner, which I don’t care about, but you remember all those lessons we had on courtly manners and careful speech? She’s never done that. And you remember how we were taught about not making promises and how to balance pressures from competing Lords? She was learning the difference between a broadsword and a sabre, and the best one to use against Dark Elves versus Titans versus Kronans. If I tell her then she’ll have to come to court and join a whole different world, what if she hates it? What if it drives her away? Would our friendship survive if she can’t stay with me? And what if she wants to leave but feels like she can’t because I’m a princess? We hold power most people cannot reach just by virtue of our birth. I’d never use it on her, never try to retaliate, but what if she can’t trust that?”

“I’ve never actually known you to be scared of anything before,” Anima said, “I should have known the one thing you were afraid of was yourself.”

“I’m not scared of myself,” Daianya protested, “I’m afraid of what everyone else will do to her.”

“You’re afraid that you won’t be strong enough to support her,” Anima said. “You’re afraid you won’t have the awareness to see if she’s struggling. You’re afraid that you will fail her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was afraid of a bunch of stuff too, but if you’re going to be together then you have to learn each other’s fears and face them together, that’s what it means to be in love.”

“You hide your wisdom under a _lot_ of immaturity,” Daianya said, regarding Anima in a new light.

Anima shrugged. “The older I get the less I like it, so I decided a long time ago not to bother with maturity unless I actually want it.”

“That sounds more like you,” Daianya said.

“Just tell her, when you get home if it’s too late now,” Anima said, “And then you can work out how to face all your fears together.”

They were interrupted by another knock. 

“Father?” Daianya guessed.

Anima waved the door open.

“Stop that,” Daianya hissed, but she was smiling.

“Why? It’s easy and mildly impressive at the same time,” Anima whispered back as a new figure stepped into the room. It was Vé, and looked slightly startled to see them together.

“Princess Anima, I did not realise you were otherwise engaged,” he said. “I will come back later.”

“No, stay,” Daianya said, jumping up. “I was just leaving.”

 _Tell me everything he says,_ she thought to Anima. _I want to know what he doesn’t want me to hear._

 _Will do,_ Anima thought back.

Daianya gave him a smile and left the room. Vé held the door for her and closed it as soon as she was gone.

“How can I help you, Uncle Vé?” Anima asked him, gesturing for him to take Daianya’s recently vacated seat.

He sat cautiously. All of his movements were cautious, almost as though he was expecting a strike from an unknown quarter at any moment.

“I wanted the chance to speak with you alone,” he said.

“Oh?” Anima asked.

“I wanted to ask…” he took a deep breath, “I wanted to ask you what you knew about the war with the Titans, specifically about the role the Mortal’s played?”

Anima frowned in confusion. “I know the sorcerers all died, they burnt themselves up channelling large amounts of magic to destroy the Titan fleets.”

Vé nodded. “And the others?” he asked.

“Others?” Anima asked suspiciously.

Vé looked like he was trying to hold back anger. “I suspected that he wouldn’t have told you, Odin was always so good at keeping the past to the past,” he said. “The sorcerers weren’t the only ones who fought, there were others, Mortals with no magic. They joined the armies, they helped with the supply lines… they built the Asgardian palace.”

Anima frowned. “What? What help could that be to the war?”

“It didn’t,” Vé said. “They came to help with the war, but Bor put them to work building and expanding his palace. He and I had a lot of fights about it while Odin was away fighting.”

“Wait, the king made citizens of Midgard, an ally, build his palace in the middle of a war?” Anima asked.

 _WHAT?!_ Daianya echoed in her head.

“He justified it by saying that the Asgardian men he would have used had all gone to fight,” Vé said. “That’s why I left Asgard, because we couldn’t stop clashing over it. It was little better than slavery, and they didn’t deserve such treatment.”

“Did Father know?” Anima asked.

“He found out most of it when he returned from fighting,” Vé said. “He wasn’t happy about it, but Bor is the king so there was little he could do.”

“Did my mother know?” Anima asked.

“Not at first, when she found out she almost threw Bor out of a window,” Vé said, smiling at the memory. “He agreed to stop and the palace was finished by Asgardian builders, but more than two hundred years of Mortal slavery built the palace, and as a Mortal yourself I thought it wasn’t right that you didn’t know. My brother has always wanted to put the past behind him without facing it, but you have the right to know.”

“Thank you,” Anima said, somewhat uncertainly. “I shall have to ask Father for more details once I am home.”

Vé nodded. “Don’t let him bury the past,” he said. “Asgard is badly flawed, and it will remain that way unless something drastic happens to change it. Odin has a powerful intellect but his heart isn’t always in the right place.”

“I know,” Anima said, thinking of Nal. 

“Have you seen Midgard?” Vé asked. “I go down there every so often to check on it; they are nowhere near recovered from the war and it’s been close to a hundred years since the Titans were driven back, and forty since the war itself ended. They are struggling and we are forbidden to help.”

“I have seen Midgard,” Anima said, “And I understand your concerns only too well.”

“My wife and I have a plan for reconstruction,” Vé said. “It’s designed to help the Mortals regain power over their own lives. I would like to discuss it in greater detail later if you have time.”

“I’d like that,” Anima said. 

He rose, looking more animated than previously. “There’s a lot of good that can be done,” he said. “The nine realms do not have to be against one another, we can unite and support each other, if only we are brave enough to embrace it.”

He left her to finish getting ready, but Anima just sat in her chair with her thoughts troubled and cynical. Odin didn’t know? He cycled to and from the war front just like all the war leaders, so had Bor hidden it whenever his eldest son came home or had Odin decided that there were more important battles to fight?

Daianya returned half an hour later to fetch her for dinner. Anima stood up and snapped her fingers, letting magic transform her into a perfect princess.

“When do you want to confront him?” Daianya asked as they walked toward the door.

“Diplomacy dictates that we ought to wait until we are back on Asgard,” Anima said.

“So tonight after dinner?” Daianya said.

“Yup,” Anima said.

****

Frigga floated through the crowd in the hall with a smile on her face. She’d already been asked to dance a dozen times, and had to admit it was a lot more fun than it had seemed when she was taking endless dancing lessons as an adolescent. The only thing ruining it was her mother’s watchful eye, no doubt taking in exactly who her partners were and what their families were worth.

“I came to rescue you,” Sir Kinndyr said, appearing at her shoulder. “I should think your feet are quite aching by now.”

“Have you been watching my dancing that closely?” Frigga said, turning his charm back on him and making him flush.

“I… maybe…” he admitted.

“I could do with a rest and a drink,” Frigga said.

He escorted her to his family’s table and pulled her chair out for her, then poured her a glass of wine.

“My father has been on me all night to talk to the princesses,” he said. “He want to know what the holiday was like, whether I made friends with Daianya, whether it was ‘worth’ continuing a friendship with her friends. Please tell me I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to worry about these things?”

“You are not,” Frigga confirmed, “But we are the future of Vanaheim, I suppose when you have a ‘Lord’ in front of your name you have to think about these things.”

“I was thinking about taking a trip to Asgard actually,” Kinndyr said. “I asked Tiree whether she’d be interested in showing me around the city there should I visit and she seemed agreeable to the idea.”

Frigga felt a real smile come to her face, the first since Amora had stormed out earlier that afternoon. “I think she’s a lovely woman, and you should definitely visit and see more of her world,” she said.

He grinned at her. “You know, my father told me I ought to get to know you, I think he’s hoping for an alliance, uh, you don’t mind if I… don’t?”

“I don’t mind,” Frigga said truthfully. “My mother has been hoping for similar plans and as much as I _hate_ to disappoint her…”

He laughed, which made her do the same. “Here’s to dashed expectations,” he said, holding his glass up to hers.

“Cheers,” Frigga said.

****

In the quiet of the guest rooms of the palace, Tanzir of Salkua walked alone down the corridors. He was dressed as a servant, complete with artificial facial disguise, and he looked just like someone sent on an errand. He reached Odin’s rooms and pulled out the key he’d swiped from the body of the man whose face he’d stolen. He unlocked the door and entered as though he had every right to be there. 

In a palace, filled as it was with people of all types and ranks, the only true way to get caught was to look suspicious in the first place. No one had stopped him on his way there, the guards at the end of the corridor didn’t stop him as he opened the door. Look the part and act the part, and you were invisible.

He went straight to the bed and ducked underneath. On his back, he attached the relocation bomb and set the proximity sensors to detect when someone drew close to the bed. It was important to ensure that Odin himself was sucked into the resulting wormhole and not some random servant or visitor who happened to set foot in his rooms. 

With the sensors on, he wriggled quickly out from under the bed and dashed quickly outside of the range. Stepping into range began a countdown of five seconds, with no exceptions.

Job done, he picked up a handful of towels from the basket in Odin’s bathroom and stepped back out into the corridor. No one stopped him as he walked back the way he had come with clear purpose in his step.


	28. The Trap Sprung

Daianya was dancing with Norbleen, fully aware of the number of eyes following them around the dancefloor.

“This is ridiculous,” she said softly.

“I know, but it’s considered polite to ask visiting guests to dance, and it was either you or your father, so…” he said with a smile.

“Don’t forget Anima,” Daianya said.

“I don’t plan to, there’s another simple dance coming up that I should be able to guide her through without too much stepping on toes,” he said.

“Sorry,” Daianya said.

“It’s quite alright, my dancing shoes have reinforced toes. I had them made because Haewkyr loves to dance but he’s actually very bad at it,” Norbleen said.

Daianya laughed. “He’s watching us too,” she said. “But I think he’s mostly staring at your bottom.”

“Why do you think I wore such fitted pants?” Norbleen asked. “Did you tell Tarah about your feelings?”

“No, and she’s gone home now,” Daianya said. “I tried to as we said goodbye but I only had a few minutes because I had to get ready for the feast, and everyone else was there. I feel like such a coward.”

“Then I suppose we are cowards together, because I still can’t figure out how to tell my father,” Norbleen said. “Thank Yggdrasil that Haewkyr is patient with me, because every time I think I’m ready I find a reason to delay.”

“I’d say let’s make a pact to have it done before the end of the year, but I suspect we’d both just fail it,” Daianya said.

“After your visit is over he and I are going to his lands to begin implementing our first experiment,” Norbleen said. “He’s got enough funds to start a trade school for his residents, so we’ve picked out teachers and we’re going to set them up in a side building on his manor, and anyone who wants to can enrol for free. If they have real talent then we can set them on the path to success regardless of who their parents are.”

“That sounds like a fantastic experiment, and the fact that you get to spend lots of time together uninterrupted is just a bonus,” Daianya said, making him blush.

**** 

Prince Norbleen seems to be very happy,’ Lady Wearveil commented to Queen Boaldia.

“Yes, they appear to have made good friends with one another,” said Boaldia, “Although Norbleen said this afternoon that they had no private arrangement.”

Odin pricked his ears up. He’d been meaning to ask Daianya about that, but time had gotten away from him.

“Are you enjoying the feast, your Grace?” Lady Wearveil asked, spotting him looking.

“Yes, it is truly wonderful,” Odin said.

Despite being the God of War, Strategy and Victory, he suddenly felt as though he was under siege, and losing.

“I’m so glad to hear it, our continued friendship with Asgard is a source of great pride for Vanaheim, after all, your strength and determination to maintain peace throughout the nine realms is unparalleled,” Lady Wearveil said.

He was one hundred percent certain that her words held a double meaning, mostly because Asgard’s version of peace had always included rather a lot of war, but her tone was completely innocent and guileless.

“I assure you, Vanaheim’s friendship is just as important to us,” Odin said.

“Historically that has always been the case,” Lady Wearveil said, “So many of our warriors join your ranks in training and on the battlefield.”

Odin found himself racking his brains trying to remember if he’d ever read anything on Lady Wearveil, did she have a son she’d lost to battle? He felt as though there was a trap in the making but he couldn’t see where it was coming from.

“Peace is always preferred,” he said. “Sometimes it cannot be maintained, but it is _always_ preferred.”

“I am glad to hear that that is your policy,” Lady Wearveil said, smiling. “It is important to know where the future of our two realms is heading, and a future of peace is one in which all men and women may thrive with long, healthy lives.”

“Yes,” Odin said, finally seeing a way through. “I intend very much to oversee a peaceful realm one day.”

“And the day after?” Lady Wearveil said charmingly, like a snake, “When your daughter follows in your footsteps?”

Odin mentally ran through every curse word he’d ever heard. “That’s a very long way away, my Lady, long enough for many lessons to be learnt.”

“And who will be learning those lessons?” Lady Wearveil asked, “Princess Hela or you? And who shall be paying for them, your people or ours?”

She left him standing there, unable to think of a reply.

****

As per Vanaheim tradition, the feast did not end until the sun began to rise the next day. Anima was so tired she was starting to feel sick. Daianya’s feet hurt from all the young nobles asking her to dance, and even Odin was feeling less than his best, especially after speaking to Lady Wearveil. 

He’d managed, through careful conversation with some of the more gossipy members of the Vanir court, to discover that she’d lost her husband on one of Asgard’s engagements with one of their many enemies, and that her second marriage had ended the moment her son came of age and she no longer needed financial support. Odin supposed that she was still bitter at the loss, but that was hardly Asgard’s fault. They didn’t go looking for battle, it was just that they were the strongest realm and therefore an easy target.

Although Bor didn’t exactly help matters with his constant antagonising of every other race he came across.

Exhausted and a little embarrassed at being outmanoeuvred so easily, Odin made his way to his room with the intention of sleeping long enough to regain his wits in preparation for further battle. He _liked_ clever opponents, even more so when the stakes weren’t all that high. 

To his surprise he found Anima and Daianya both waiting for him outside his room.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked, “We should all be going to bed. The Vanaheim court does not do feasts by halves.”

“We wanted to talk to you about something important,” Anima said, although she was swaying slightly.

“It can’t wait until we’ve all slept?” Odin asked, opening his door and walking inside.

“Was the Asgardian palace really built using Mortal slaves?” Anima asked as she and Daianya followed him inside.

Odin paused and silently cursed Vé for his interference. “They were fed and housed,” he said.

“Most slaves are or else they’ll die,” Daianya said.

“They came to Asgard to help with the war,” Odin said. “They worked alongside the Asgardians on the supply lines, in the fields for food. They came willingly.”

“Did they leave willingly?” Anima asked, “Or was that option taken away?”

Odin took a deep breath. “I wasn’t involved in the decision,” he said, turning towards his bed.

“That’s not an answer,” Anima yelled.

Odin stopped and turned. “No. It’s not,” he conceded. “The truth is I am extremely tired, as are both of you. This is a serious and complicated conversation which we do need to have, but not right now when we can all barely stand. Go to bed, and after we have slept you can join me for breakfast and we will talk about what happened, and what the response was.”

He pulled back the covers of his bed started to unbutton his shirt. After a second he turned and glared at his daughters, neither of whom had moved.

“I don’t care how tired we are,” Anima said, stepping forwards, “I want – ”

The relocation bomb, having reached the end of its countdown, activated in a flash of light. Odin, Anima, Daianya and all the furniture in the bedroom were sucked down into the resulting wormhole and thrown to a random destination beyond.

****

Frigga was getting ready for bed and deliberately not looking at the door that led to Amora’s now vacant room when she detected a large surge of magic from close by. She gasped at the feeling, almost missing the loud roar that had accompanied it, and hurriedly pulled on her dressing gown over her petticoats before running out of the door.

She encountered her mother in the corridor who immediately frowned at her appearance.

“Go back into your room! A Lady does not run around half dressed,” Lady Wearveil said.

“There was a surge of magic, a big one, and it was _inside_ the palace,” Frigga said. “That’s illegal, and the dampeners should have stopped it, unless it was big enough to overwhelm them.”

“Go back inside,” Lady Wearveil said as Haewkyr appeared.

“I heard a roar,” he said, “Something is going on.”

“Haewkyr doesn’t have a shirt on,” Frigga said.

Lady Wearveil just glared at her. Frigga held her glare for a few seconds, then dropped her gaze and turned away. “I’ll just pull on something simple,” she said.

****

As it turned out there was no need. The area where the surge had occurred had been the guest wing, and the guards were already swarming all over it, and blocking access to everyone else, by the time they arrived.

“What happened? Where is Odin?” King Dimcken practically shouted on arrival.

Behind him the Queen almost rolled her eyes as Prince Norbleen smothered a wince. “Let’s not yell unproven facts about, Father,” he cautioned, “Let’s instead go and find out what has happened. I’m sure Prince Odin is fine.”

They passed by Haewkyr and Frigga standing with the rest of the crowd. Norbleen gave them a nod of acknowledgement and hissed. “Can you clear this crowd?”

Lady Wearveil heard him and immediately took a step back. “Lords and Ladies,” she said, her voice calm and firm, “We simply must not stand here like children watching a play! Our honoured guests will hear of our concern for their wellbeing at lunch. And to stand about will disrupt our hard-working and wonderful guards, it is far better for _all_ concerned to return to our rooms for now and wait for announcements.”

Almost all of the more minor nobles turned away and started heading back to their rooms. Some of the more powerful Lords tried to stare her down, but Lady Wearveil held their gaze with just a hint of a pleasant smile. One by one they folded, and turned away.

“Mother is scary,” Frigga said. 

“You know, I’ve seen that same look in your eye when someone’s made you angry,” Haewkyr said. 

Frigga turned and glared at him.

“There it is!” Haewkyr said, pointing at her face.

“Children,” Lady Wearveil said, making them both look at their feet.

She turned and walked away, clearly expecting them to follow her.

“I wanted to tell them about the magic,” Frigga said. “Not everyone can detect it, they might not know.”

“If it blew through the dampeners then they’ll know,” Haewkyr said. “Trust me, sorcerers might not be the most respected profession out there but they’re not totally disregarded either.”

Reluctantly, Frigga followed him back to their rooms. “Will you tell Norbleen when you see him, just in case?” she asked.

“Promise,” Haewkyr said.

****

King Dimcken was panicking. Prince Odin was _gone_. So were his two daughters, his bed, the side tables and the bookshelves full of interesting books filled with facts about Vanaheim in case he’d wanted to read something while resting. The entire room was bare.

“The carpet’s gone too,” Norbleen said, scanning the room. “The tapestries, the pictures, everything not attached to the walls has vanished.”

“King Bor is going to declare war on us for this,” Dimcken said, wringing his hands together.

“I’m sure he will not be so reckless,” Queen Boaldia said. “He will want to know what has happened though, so we must finish our investigation quickly.”

She turned to look at the head of security, a portly noble by the name of Lord Uslus.

“We’re scanning the area now,” he said. “It’s was a device of some kind, and there are strong gravitational forces right where the bed was even now. Our best guess was… um…”

“Yes?” Norbleen prompted.

“Well, the only thing we know of that can create something like this is… a Dark Elf black hole bomb,” said Lord Uslus.

There was stunned silence in the room.

“And no one’s been able to locate the Princesses?” Norbleen asked, breaking the silence.

“They weren’t in their rooms, and it didn’t look like they had been in there since before the feast,” said Lord Uslus’ deputy, Sir Cingyr.

“There’s magic here,” said a new voice.

“Dorgen! Go to your room!” shouted Dimcken, who was borderline hysterical.

The boy flinched and turned away; Norbleen ran after him.

“Dorgen, wait,” he said. “What do you mean there’s magic there?”

“There’s a ton of magic all over the room,” Dorgen said. “I can see it if I concentrate. Do Dark Elf bombs use magic?”

“No,” Norbleen said, “They don’t.”

“Maybe it’s something else then?” Dorgen suggested hopefully. “Maybe it didn’t… kill anyone?”

“I hope not,” Norbleen said. “I think the Princesses might have been with their father when it went off, unless this was a distraction for a kidnapping.”

Dorgen’s eyes widened. “Who would kidnap them?” he asked, then frowned in puzzlement. “ _How_ would they kidnap them? Princess Daianya can put a man through a wall, and Princess Anima is the _Goddess of Magic_.”

“I don’t know, we’ll have to investigate every angle,” Norbleen said. “Thanks for telling me about the magic, that was good work.”

Dorgen shrugged. “One day, when you’re king, I want to be your head of security, only I’m going to be _good_ at it.” 

Norbleen shook his head. “Don’t be cheeky,” he said.

“You know, Sar Frigga studied magic,” Dorgen said. “I bet she can see a lot more than I can, if you want to ask her.”

“Any more extremely helpful suggestions?” Norbleen asked him, “Want to solve the mystery right now?”

“Can I see the room again?” Dorgen asked.

“Not now, Father’s still in there,” Norbleen said, “Go to bed.”

Dorgen’s shoulders slumped.

“And later today when it’s empty and I invite Sar Frigga down here to take a look at it, you can come,” Norbleen added.

Dorgen spun and gave him a hug. “We’ll find them together,” he said, and headed off to bed as instructed.


	29. Cut Off

Nal was fast asleep when the device went off, and so she missed the sudden departure of her sisters from Vanaheim. The following morning her eyes opened sleepily and she yawned as she stretched out her limbs.

There was a space in her head, a horrible, gaping void of nothingness where her sisters should be.

Nal made a noise of distress in the back of her throat and fled her room, running down the stairs in her panic to reach help. She ran full tilt along the corridor, down one passageway and the next, breath burning in her lungs as at last she arrived at Loki’s door.

“Loki!” she screamed, banging on the door, _“Loki!”_

The door was wrenched open and Loki stood there looking at her in concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked as she stood there.

“My sisters are gone, they’re _gone_. The space in my head is all empty and hollow. They’re supposed to be there and they aren’t!” she gasped.

He reached out as though to pull her into a hug but hesitated at the last second. Instead he grabbed his robe and threw it over her shoulders, then gave her a hug.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said, pulling back as quickly as he’d leaned in, “But we’re going to have to do something horrible.”

“What?” Nal asked.

“Speak to the King,” Loki said, looking vaguely disgusted.

****

They jogged down the corridors to the other side of the palace where King Bor slept in his much larger and fancier chambers. Loki paused at the door and turned to look at Nal.

“Stay here,” he said and vanished.

There was a faint noise of the lock moving, and then Loki opened the door from the inside. The palace alarms were already sounding at his use of magic so near the king.

Bor came charging out of his bedroom with Gungnir in his hand, already looking for enemies. He saw Loki standing there and raised the spear. “Finally you show your true colours,” he snapped.

“Your Majesty,” Nal said from behind Loki, “Something has gone wrong on Vanaheim. My sisters are in trouble.”

Bor did not lower Gungnir, but he did pause. “What kind of trouble?” he asked.

Nal shook her head. “The place in my head where they normally are is empty. I think… I think they might be dead.”

Bor scowled. “It’s barely morning over there, they’re probably still asleep,” he said in an annoyed tone.

“I know what that feels like!” Nal snapped. “This is different, this is _gone_ , and you’re wasting time to find out what happened! I’m going to Vanaheim right now to find out what’s going on!”

“No you are not,” Bor snapped. “You will stay right here.”

“I’ll go,” Loki said, already turning away.

“No you won’t,” Bor said.

“I’m a private citizen, unless you have a reason to arrest me you can’t stop me leaving,” Loki said.

“You broke into my chambers, I’ll arrest you for that,” Bor snapped. He looked again at Nal’s outraged and worried face. “I’ll contact King Dimcken and see if anything has happened, alright?” he added.

It still took, in Nal’s opinion, far too long for him to arrange the message, and even longer for it to return. By the time it did the rest of the palace had woken up and confusion over the alarm had spread. Hela walked in just as King Dimcken’s answering message arrived.

Bor read the note and his face slowly turned purple with anger. “My son and granddaughters appear to have been involved in an _incident_ ,” he snarled. “An INCIDENT!”

“So we’re going to Vanaheim?” Loki said as Nal hugged herself in worry.

“Damn right we are, and by ‘we’ I mean Hela and I are. Hela! Be at the Bifrost in twenty minutes,” Bor said, rising abruptly. “Someone send a message to Commander Lomax, I wish General Hymir was back but he will have to do in the meantime. He’ll need to keep things running until I get back.”

“Under the command of Nal,” Hela said.

Bor paused and looked at Nal. “Yes of course, go and get dressed, girl, you don’t have to do anything, just listen to Commander Lomax and let him handle anything that comes up unexpectedly until I get back. Suspend the courts and just make them put all the daily reports on my desk. There’s nothing major going on right now that can’t wait until I get back.”

He headed to the door, Hela on his heels.

“That was nice of Hela,” Loki commented. 

“There’s nothing nice about Hela,” Nal said bitterly, “If I have to stay here then I can’t go with them. She’s making me wait to hear what happened to my sisters.”

“Do you want me to stay or go?” Loki asked her.

“Go, I need to know someone competent is investigating,” Nal said.

“As you wish,” Loki said, giving her a nod. He headed out after Bor and Hela.

Nal stood alone in the king’s office and bit her lip. The emptiness in her head was like being thrown off balance and all she wanted was to find her feet again.

“Please don’t be dead,” she whispered, “Please just be cut off from me, somehow, I don’t care how, just don’t be dead.”

Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to stand straighter. Another breath to keep herself calm and she headed back to her rooms to dress. It would do no one any good to be running around in her nightdress.

The robe that Loki had given her was sending faint traces of code through her skin but, annoyingly, not enough for any form of understanding. She set it aside carefully when she got back to her room just in case and went to quickly shower.

****

Hela was trying hard to look serious instead of elated. If Nal thought her sisters were dead then there was a good chance she was right and that was _fine_ by Hela. She’d wanted them dead anyway, and the message from Vanaheim had mentioned Odin as well. If he was dead, and Daianya was dead, then Hela’s only rival left was Nal, and Bor had made it pretty clear that he barely remembered Nal was a Princess, let alone another heir to his throne.

It had actually been vaguely disturbing to see Bor almost forget that Nal, by law, ought to be left in charge when she was the last one left on Asgard. It was disturbing because if he could forget her so easily then there was a chance that Hela might one day be dismissed just as easily. That could not be allowed to happen, and so she had reminded him of his other granddaughter, and the expectations the law had around such things. 

At least he hadn’t tried to fight it, forgetting for a moment was different to outright opposing it, and it was entirely possible that Nal was the only one he would ever forget.

They reached the Bifrost and dismounted, Bor, Hela, and two guards. Normally guards were not required for a visit to Vanaheim, but tensions were high and Hela was looking forward to seeing them go even higher.

Maybe there’d even be a war, now that would be a wonderful outcome.

Bor nodded at the gatekeeper. “We’re going to Vanaheim,” he said.

Hela stood by his side and struggled to suppress a smile as the Bifrost began to activate.

Please let them be dead, she thought as just a hint of a smile touched her lips.

****

Frigga was just brushing her hair when there was a knock on her door. It was Haewkyr, accompanied by Prince Norbleen.

“Good morning, Sister,” Haewkyr said, “Our Prince has come with a request.”

“Sorry to bother you so early,” Norbleen said, “My brother mentioned last night that the incident in Prince Odin’s room appeared to have a magic origin. I know you studied it extensively, would you take a look at it and see if there’s anything you can tell me?”

Frigga nodded at once. “I sensed magic in it last night,” she said.

“I told him that,” Haewkyr said, “I also told him you had been trained to reconstruct spells from fragments.”

“That’s true,” Frigga confirmed, “Although the type of spell may not leave a lot behind.”

“My father is expecting King Bor to arrive any minute,” Norbleen said, “If we go now we’ll have a little time before the room gets crowded again.”

Frigga rose and followed them through the palace to the guest wing. Norbleen waved the guards back and led them through to Prince Odin’s room.

It was empty, completely stripped bare. Frigga looked around herself with a frown.

“It looks like everything in the room was vaporised,” Norbleen said, “Except that there are still some fittings left attached to the walls. If it was vaporisation then they should be gone as well.”

“The room wasn’t vaporised,” Frigga said, staring at a point where Odin’s bed had been, “The focal point was just there, and all of the residual magic indicates teleportation or travel of some kind.”

“They were sent somewhere!” Norbleen said, sounding hopeful. “Can you see where?”

Frigga scanned the room slowly with squinted eyes, before remembering what her mother had always said about Ladies and squinting and habitually straightened her features. “Not without some study,” she said. “There are runes here, faint and growing fainter, but I think they created the spell. I need some paper to record them before they’re gone, then I can research what they mean when put together.”

Norbleen immediately stuck his head out of the door and called out instructions for a guard to fetch him some paper and a pen.

Frigga kept glancing back at the focal point of the spell. It was a lot brighter than the rest of the room and seemed to pull at the air around it, distorting her vision faintly.

The paper arrived quickly and she set to work, scribbling down each rune on the page to reflect its rough position in the room.

“You’re not going to accidently set something off are you?” Haewkyr asked her.

“No, this thing had a lot of power behind it. I’m not even sure I could activate on purpose without help,” Frigga said.

****

The Bifrost light faded and Bor stood glaring at Dimcken, who looked openly cowed. 

“Where’s my son?” Bor asked.

“Please, your Majesty, if you would come this way,” King Dimcken stammered.

“Tell me what has happened,” Bor demanded darkly.

“Your Majesty, the Bifrost site is such an open place, if you would be so gracious as to follow our King to his private rooms he will tell you everything that has happened at once,” said a smooth voice.

Despite his anger, Bor calmed slightly at the sound. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Lady Wearveil, your Majesty, and we are all very anxious to solve what has happened, for the sake of both our realms, please, come to the king’s private rooms,” she urged, deep in a curtsey and showing no sign of distress from holding it so long.

“Fine,” Bor said, “Lead the way, my Lady.”

Lady Wearveil rose and led both kings into the palace and to the private area reserved for Vanaheim’s king.

The moment they were inside Bor’s glare returned. Hela watched in delight as once again King Dimcken flinched beneath Bor’s gaze.

“So what happened?” Bor asked.

“There was an incident,” King Dimcken began.

Bor turned to face Lady Wearveil. “What happened?” he asked her.

“Someone planted a bomb of some kind in Prince Odin’s chambers. It stripped the room of all the people, furnishings and carpets, everything not secured in some way to the structure of the building. We have not yet been able to locate Princesses Daianya or Anima, and believe that they were in the room when the bomb was activated,” Lady Wearveil said promptly.

Bor nodded curtly. “Show me,” he demanded.

She led the way, followed by a grateful Queen Boaldia and a still cowering Dimcken.

****

Frigga was just finishing up the last rune when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Norbleen stuck his head out of the door and quickly pulled it back in with a curse. “King Bor is here,’ he said. “We have to leave; Father doesn’t know I brought you two in here.”

Haewkyr pointed to the bathroom door and they hastily slipped through it, crowding together on the other side so as to hear what was going on.

The door to the room opened and multiple footsteps were heard entering.

“As you can see, your Majesty, the room has been stripped bare,” said the voice of Lady Wearveil. Haewkyr sent Frigga a puzzled glance but she just shrugged, where else would their mother be if not at the centre of things?

“What kind of device was it?” King Bor asked.

“Our investigators are still determining that,” Lady Wearveil said.

“The result looks a lot like a Dark Elf black hole bomb,” said Bor, sounding angry. “If my son is dead then I shall consider your lapse in security to be an aggressive act.”

Frigga looked down at her notes, then up at Norbleen with a questioning look. He shook his head silently. “Not until we know for sure they were transported,” he breathed in her ear.

“We are doing our utmost to find not only those responsible for the attack but also those foolish enough to have allowed the bomb to have been planted,” Queen Boaldia said. “We expect the first report within the hour, if you would be so gracious as to wait with us, and of course, if Asgard wishes to join the investigation we welcome your expertise gratefully.”

Bor made a harrumphing sound and the group departed. Frigga, Haewkye and Norbleen all breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll take your findings to Father as soon as you can be sure that it’s a teleportation spell and not a killing device,” Norbleen said, opening the bathroom door.

There was the sound of an apple being crunched between teeth, and all three of them froze.

“Interesting theory,” said Loki of Utgard, standing in the otherwise empty room and regarding them thoughtfully. “Personally I’d take it to them now, Bor can be a nightmare when he’s riled and this will sooth him, at least temporarily.”

“I didn’t realise not everyone had left,” Norbleen said.

“Neither did they, I’ve been keeping nice and inconspicuous, it helps me get into places that other people – _cough_ Bor _cough_ – think I ought not to go,” Loki said. “Frigga, how are you, my dear?”

Norbleen and Haewkyr turned to look at Frigga, who suppressed the urge to sigh. “This is Loki of Utgard, Loki, Prince Norbleen of Vanaheim, and Lord Haewkyr, my brother. Loki came and taught at the Academy for a semester a few decades ago.”

“Visiting professor,” Loki said, taking another bite of his apple, “Illusions.”

“Like making yourself invisible?” Norbleen asked.

Loki grinned. “And that,” he said. “Now, I can clearly see a lot of faded magical runes all over the place. They look like destination runes to me, but they’re scrambled. I think whatever this thing was it didn’t have a specific destination built in, which is awkward, because that means there’s every chance that my two nieces and dear Brother have been thrown into the heart of a star, or a void in space.”

“I don’t think so,” Frigga said. “While I don’t doubt that a device of this nature _could_ be made to be truly random, this rune here indicates that they have to land within one hundred kilometres of a planet’s surface.”

“That still a rather long way to fall, ask me how I know,” Loki said. “Have you written down every rune?”

Frigga nodded and held out her notes. “Most of them are hard to make out due to fading, but I did get all the ones that were still visible when I entered the room.”

Loki took the paper and nodded thoughtfully. “This’ll have to do,” he said, putting the apple away in his pocket and pulling out the tesseract.

“What is that?” Norleen asked warily.

Loki grinned. “Something I’ve been hanging onto for weeks,” he said. “Bor’s an idiot if he thinks it will stay safe in the vault.”

As Norbleen just looked puzzled and Haewkyr stepped protectively in front of Frigga, Loki held up the tesseract and concentrated on the runes. Light began to flow all around him.

“You’re following them? You have no idea where they ended up!” Frigga argued, trying to get around her brother.

Loki grinned. “I know, _fun_ ,” he said. A moment later he vanished in a flash of light.

“He took my notes!” Frigga exclaimed.

“Did he follow them?” Norbleen asked, “Did it work?”

“I assume so,” Haewkyr said.

“He _took_ my _notes_ ,” Frigga repeated. “That means I can’t study them and figure out where the bomb sent them!”

“Shit,” Norbleen said.

“Here’s hoping wherever they ended up this Loki fellow will be able to help them get home,” Haewkyr said.

****

There was a rush of light, flickering with green and blue and streaks of red, and pressure on her skull that made her grit her teeth in annoyance, and then the sensation of movement through intense pressure became movement without any.

Daianya was high above the ground and falling. She sucked in a gasp of air and instinctively spread her limbs, letting the skirt of her gown catch the wind and slow her down, if only a little. Beside her she heard a scream and turned her head. Anima was falling to her right, eyes wide in terror as she stared down at the ground.

 _Anima! Focus! You have magic! Get us down before we hit the ground!_ Daianya thought at her panicking sister.

Anima didn’t react, and Daianya angled herself so that the wind would push her close enough to grab hold. “Magic! NOW!” she screamed in Anima’s face.

Anima shut her eyes and the wind disappeared.

Daianya looked around, noting with curiosity that they were no longer falling, but rather floating in the air. Still a reasonable distance below them, the ground waited. Daianya frowned as she saw faint impacts of something hitting the dirt at the centre of what looked like a large arena.

“Can you float us down there?” she asked.

Anima didn’t open her eyes, but they began to move slowly downwards. Daianya held on and waited patiently as they drifted, finally coming to land amongst the broken and half-embedded furniture just as a small group of people emerged from the far end of the arena’s protective walls and began striding across the ground to reach them.

There was a groan somewhere behind them and Daianya and Anima both turned in time to see Odin’s head emerge from the centre of a him-sized crater.

“Are you two alright?” he asked, rubbing his head.

“Are you?” they both asked at the same time as the group finally reached them.

“No, no, no, this will not do, look at my stadium! The contest is tomorrow and look at what you’ve done!” said a man dressed in rich clothing.

“In our defence, we didn’t actually do this, we just got picked up by the thing that did and taken along for the ride,” said Anima.

“Is that, is that true? You didn’t bring all this here?” said the man, gesturing to the debris field that had once been Odin’s bedroom. “Are those books?”

They looked. “I think so,” Anima said. “I think there was a bookshelf.”

“We’ll never get all this cleared away before the contest! This is outrageous!” said the man.

A stout woman in armour reached out and tried to hand him a staff.

“What? No, no, the melt stick is not appropriate for visitors, even unexpected ones,” said the man.

Anima scanned the field and held out a hand. The books, furniture, clothes and carpets all lifted themselves from the ground, which then covered itself over. She set everything back gently on the dirt. “Will that help?” she asked.

The man stared at her for a moment, then smiled broadly and clapped his hands together. “Oh! Magic! We don’t see much of it here, people with magic tend to leave fairly quickly, although I can’t think why.”

Odin came to stand beside Daianya. “My name is Odin Borson, these are my daughters, Daianya and Anima. Can you please tell us where we are? We were transported here against out will from a realm call Vanaheim, and we must return there as quickly as possible.”

The man smiled. “Well, of course people are always free to leave Sakaar, you can purchase travel at any of the ports.”

“This wasn’t a planned journey,” Odin said. “I have not heard of Sakaar before. Anima, can you get us home?”

Anima concentrated, her face screwed up with exhaustion. “I can’t see the way,” she said. “It’s as if there’s something blocking me.”

“Oh that would be the magical dampeners,” said the man, still smiling. “Magic users are unpredictable and shouldn’t be given too much power. You can use it outside of the stadium, although now I’m curious as to how you fixed the ground.”

He stared at her with a serious expression, his demeanour suddenly a lot more intimidating.

Anima shrugged. “I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to,” she said by way of explanation.

“You look strong,” the man aid to Odin, “As a matter of fact so does she,” he added, nodding at Daianya, “Maybe you can fight in my contest, as payment for the mess you caused.”

His guards began to walk forwards.

“The mess that we also cleaned up,” Odin said.

“The debris is still here,” the man said. 

“Give me a minute,” Anima said, although she was swaying from tiredness.

“This contest is some kind of gladiator battle?” Daianya asked.

The man nodded. “My contest is the greatest in the universe. I am the Grand _master_ and only the greatest may participate in my glorious Contest of Champions.”

“Is it a battle to the death?” Daianya asked flatly.

“The main event is,” the Grandmaster said cheerfully.

“No,” Odin said. “We haven’t even seen the competition.”

The Grandmaster blinked in surprise. “Oh of course! That’s very fair actually, isn’t it fair Topaz? They should see the competition and then decide if they are strong enough to join! Has anyone else seen the competition?”

“No,” Topaz said, looking at Odin with a decidedly unimpressed expression.

There was a disturbance in the air and all of the debris vanished. Anima sighed heavily and Daianya only had a second to react and catch her before Anima slumped down unconscious.

“Topaz? Strengthen the dampeners,” said the Grandmaster, “We can’t have anyone interfering with my contest.”

“Anima wouldn’t do that,” Daianya said.

“Not even if you were the one fighting?” the Grandmaster asked.

“Will you take a wager?” Odin asked. He had been watching the Grandmaster closely and had guessed, correctly as it turned out, that he would be unable to turn down a sufficiently interesting bet.

The Grandmaster immediately looked interested. “What do you propose?” he asked.

“My daughters and I are exhausted, and therefore not at our best,” Odin said. “I wager that once we are refreshed then I shall be able to beat the strongest person on Sakaar, your greatest champion and winner of your contest.”

The Grandmaster instantly had a sparkle in his eye. “And the reward?” he asked.

“We want a ship capable of taking us off Sakaar and travelling back to Vanaheim safely,” Odin said. “If I lose then I’ll be dead, but you can have this.”

He held out a hand and the only object not cleared away by Anima rose from its distant resting place and flew towards him. Mjolnir slammed into his hand and he held it up for inspection. “A trophy for you to keep,” he said.

The Grandmaster’s eyes widened. “Dwarven,” he said.

“Form the forges of Niðavellir itself,” Odin said.

“I accept,” the Grandmaster said in delight, his bad mod instantly gone at the thought of an interesting challenge. He clapped his hands together again with glee. “Find them rooms here in my complex. Let them rest and eat and ohhh, you can join me in my box to watch the contenders! Then when they’re all done we shall see how good you are! Oh this is going to be such _fun_!”

They were led through what felt like endless identical passageways before finally reaching a room with a set of beds. They were basic, but comfortable. Daianya laid Anima on one of the beds and turned to face Odin.

“I have a great deal of faith in your skills, Father, but even so, you have no idea what kind of fighters are going to be a part of this Contest of Champions,” she said.

“I know,” Odin said. “But Anima needs rest. She’s a powerful goddess but still only Mortal. After she’s slept and ate… hopefully we won’t need this Grandmaster’s ship to get us back.”

Daianya sat down on the other bed. “He mentioned strengthening the magical dampeners,” she said uncertainly.

“The power of Yggdrasil is vast and mighty,” Odin said. “I don’t believe there are any dampeners strong enough to truly hold her back when she’s well.”

“I hope you’re right,” Daianya said, “Because if you’re not then who knows what you’ll be up against?”

Odin lay down on his bed with a sigh and a hint of a smile. “I am confident in my skills, my daughter. Is it too much to ask that you have faith in me?”

“I’m afraid that I will have to,” Daianya said. “Anima will no doubt be able to explain better what’s going on, but Father, there’s a space in my head where Nal ought to be. I can’t speak to her. I can’t feel her at all. Wherever Sakaar is, it isn’t connected to the rest of the universe the way other realms are.”

Odin looked up with a frown. “That’s interesting. Are you certain she’s not just asleep?” he asked.

Daianya looked at him seriously. “I know what that feels like,” she said. “The last time I felt her gone so completely, she was dead.”

Odin’s frown deepened. “And you think that something on Sakaar is blocking you from one another?”

“It better be,” Daianya said, her voice catching as she spoke, “Because if I’m wrong then whatever sent us here wasn’t an isolated attack… and the other one was a lot more effective.”


	30. Contest of Champions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor 3 made it clear that time works differently on Sakaar. I have provided my own explanation as to why as well as to why more time appears to have passed/be passing there compared to back with everyone else.

Nal spent the morning sitting awkwardly on the hastily reconstructed throne, surrounded by the cleared and patched Great Hall as the daily duties were presented to her. None of them were particularly strenuous, especially as Bor had specifically ordered a suspension of anything that might require actual decision making on her part.

Commander Lomax stood beside her the entire time; his presence made her skin crawl although she wasn’t entirely sure why. 

Eventually she put it down to the way he always stayed just on the very edge of her vision, like a threat waiting to strike. It was probably the expected position for him to take but she found it unsettling.

In her head, the void remained as a constant reminder that she was more alone than she’d ever been. Had this been what it had felt like for the others when Hela had killed her? It made it almost impossible to concentrate; she kept sending out thoughts in the hope of an answer but as the morning dragged on the endless void slowly eroded her hope that her sisters were still alive.

Bor had not sent any information back, neither had Loki, who had disappeared that morning and, presumably, had found his own way to reach Vanaheim at Nal’s request.

Nal’s eyes hurt. Frozen tears buried beneath her tear ducts kept threatening to push their way out every time she thought about her sisters, and it was with a supreme effort that she kept them in check.

Not until I know for sure, she thought to herself sternly.

Mid-morning the main duties were over and Nal rose gratefully. “I’m going to the garden for morning tea,” she said. 

Two guards immediately flanked her as she left the throne room. She knew better than to dismiss them, even Bor allowed an escort as long as they stayed far enough back not to bother him. Still, their presence was irritating when all she wanted was to be left alone.

She made her way to the Home’s Shelter Tree and turned to face them. “Stay out here, there’s only one door, I want to be alone for a while.”

They nodded and took up guarding positions. Nal pushed aside the beads that covered the door and went inside.

Scyth was already in there, he looked up at her with a puzzled expression. “Everything alright?” he whispered.

Nal rolled her eyes. “I have a new escort of guards because the King has gone to Vanaheim,” she said softly, aware that the tree’s ‘windows’ were just gaps in the roots that she’d hung material over. “We can’t spend the day together, I have duties.”

Scyth leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Such is the life of a Princess,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when everything’s sorted and you can go back to normal, I promise.”

Nal gave him a smile. “I’m glad you understand,” she said softly as one of the guards called out.

“Your Grace, there’s a servant here with your morning tea.”

Nal stuck her head out of the beads and held her hands out for the tray as Scyth leaned all the way out of sight.

“Thank you,” she said. She set the tray down on the table and handed Scyth a sandwich.

“What happened to make the King go to Vanaheim?” he asked. 

“I wish I could tell you,” Nal said, “But right now even I don’t know much.”

They ate in silence, at one point Scyth reached out and took her hand, holding it comfortingly. But before they were finished there was the sound of running footsteps.

“Where is the Princess? Where is she?”

Nal and Scyth looked at one another in alarm and she rose and went to the door. “What is it?” she asked, hoping that news had come from Vanaheim.

“The Kronan’s are attacking one of our mining colonies,” said the warrior who’d come running. “You are needed in the Great Hall.”

Nal left without looking back, hurrying across the lawn and back into the palace. “Has Commander Lomax assembled the army?” she asked.

“He’s ordered three squadrons,” reported the warrior. “He needs you to give consent to dispatch them.”

He waved his hand over the security scanner and the group entered the private area of the palace. Unseen by anyone, Scyth caught the door as it went to swing shut and slipped in after them.

Nal got to the Great Hall a few moments later in time to see Commander Lomax speaking with a new arrival.

“Lord Elbin,” she said, not even trying to hide her dislike. “What are doing here?”

“All Lords of sufficient rank are permitted in the Great Hall during the royal duties,” he said, barely looking at her. “And Commander Lomax and I were discussing the troop movements.”

“When did you serve in the army?” Nal snapped at him.

“When did you?” he countered.

Nal ignored him and turned to Commander Lomax. “Who are you sending?”

“Lord Elbin and I agreed on three squadrons of warriors, with Sub-Commander Homier in command,” Commander Lomax said.

Nal resisted the urge to look across at Lord Elbin. “Do you often require civilian input to make decisions in your profession, Commander?” she asked.

He paused, and for a second she thought he might actually glare at her or even argue, but instead he took a deep breath and said, relatively calmly, “It is my recommendation, your Grace.”

“Fine, send them,” Nal said.

Commander Lomax turned away and began issuing orders, Nal turned and walked up the steps to the throne, sitting down on it with as much grace as she could summon.

Lord Elbin was still standing there, looking unbearably smug.

“Lord Elbin,” Nal said, making him look up. “Perhaps your presence here is a sign that you desire to be useful, go to Vanaheim and inform the King that the Kronans have attacked. He ought to be aware of this development.”

Lord Elbin did not bother to hide his look of annoyance, but he gave her a nod that was _just_ deep enough to argue that it was a bow before turning on his heel and striding from the hall.

Nal watched as he accidently walked through the cold spot left behind by her outburst and shuddered involuntarily. He didn’t turn back to look at her, but the corner of her mouth turned up anyway.

****

“The Kronan attack has begun,” Brokkr reported gleefully aboard Thanos’ ship. “The Asgardians will send some of their men away and have divided forces. The way to Vanaheim is clear!”

He turned and rubbed his hands together in excitement. “They will pay,” he said, “They will finally pay!”

“King Bor is on Vanaheim,” said Tanzir, looking up from another monitor. “The communications channels indicate he arrived a few hours ago, along with Princess Hela.”

Brokkr gasped in delight and turned to Thanos. “Please kill her,” he begged, “Please, she is the worst of them all.”

“I will kill her,” Thanos promised. “I will place her under my control and set her on everyone who opposes me, and then when I am done I will end her. Bring us into orbit, I shall begin my attack.”

Tanzir flew the ship into Vanaheim’s orbit and set the flight controls to maintain its position. “We should depart on our vessel,” he said. “If the Vanir military detects your ship in orbit during the attack they will fire upon it and strand you here. If anything goes wrong you can send a signal and we will be able to retrieve you.”

“Nothing will go wrong!” Brokkr declared. “The Mind Stone will stop the Vanir army, and then the Asgardian one, our revenge shall be complete!”

Tanzir looked expectantly at Thanos.

“Stay close,” Thanos instructed him, “And do not fail me.”

“Yes my Lord,” Tanzir said.

He and Brokkr climbed aboard their vessel and detached from Thanos’ ship. Thanos climbed into a small shuttle and did the same, heading for the surface with a sense of anticipation. With Odin gone there was no one to stand in his way, no one else had ever proven strong enough.

****

Anima woke not long before nightfall, when the first round of the Contest was about to begin. Her eyes opened slowly and reluctantly, only for her to suddenly sit upright with a gasp.

“Nal!” she yelped.

“I know,” Daianya said, at her side in a moment. “This place has a million types of dampeners and interferences; I think it’s blocking us from communicating with her.”

Anima scowled. “That’s never happened before,” she said.

“I know, but I have to hope,” Daianya said with worry in her voice.

Anima looked around at the room. “Are we prisoners?” she asked.

“Guests, technically,” Daianya said, “But I’m not convinced that leaving is allowed at present, we haven’t tested the theory.”

“There’s food, eat something, regain your strength,” Odin said, coming over with a tray.

As food went it wasn’t bad quality. Anima ate slowly as Daianya caught her up on what she’d missed.

“So, if you could maybe get us back to Vanaheim, or even home, that’d be best,” Daianya said as Anima finished eating.

Anima took a deep breath and called on her magic. 

“Those dampeners you mentioned are here as well,” she said after a moment. “They’re really strong too. Hold on, I can fix this.” She clenched her hands together and made a pulling motion, bringing them in to her chest. “There,” she said, “that’s better.”

Odin frowned and held a hand up experimentally. “Did you just… drain the dampeners?” he asked.

“Magical dampeners have to use magic to suppress it,” Anima said. “You can use technology but that technology just uses background magic to create the dampening field. I sucked up all the background magic in the area so now the dampeners can’t work until it replenishes. Anyone with natural magic will be able to use it, anyone who relies on background magic will be crippled for a while.”

“That’s innovative,” Odin commented.

Anima focussed her gaze to a place only she could see. After a few minutes a frown appeared on her face. A few minutes later and her expression turned to one of alarm.

“I can’t get us home,” she said.

“What” Odin asked.

“It’s not there,” she said.

“What do you mean it’s not there?” Daianya asked.

“I mean, this place is not connected to the universe the way it’s supposed to be,” Anima said. “It’s a planet with atmosphere and people and it should belong to our universe, but it doesn’t. There are pathways back to our universe, about a hundred thousand of them, wormholes of varying sizes, but the planet itself is… the closest way I can think to describe it is it’s as if it’s sitting in a seidr pocket, out of place, out of time, tucked away somewhere _other_.”

“Is that why we can’t contact Nal?” Daianya asked with hope in her voice.

“That would do it,” Anima said. “Our connection can’t travel through time, otherwise we’d hear our past and future thoughts as well as our present ones.”

“So we need to leave via one of those wormholes,” Odin said, “Which means we need a ship.”

“We’ll get one if you can beat the Grandmaster’s champion,” Daianya said.

Odin nodded. “I am not concerned about that, I have fought many enemies before,” he said. “I can’t imagine anyone who is being forced to be a part of this competition is very powerful, or else they wouldn’t be here.”

“We’re here, and you’re in it,” Daianya pointed out.

“Through my own choices,” Odin said, “That’s different. What we need to know is which wormhole to take? If there’re a hundred thousand of them, there must be one that can get us close to our time. Distance doesn’t matter, once we’re back in the universe Anima can teleport us back to Vanaheim.”

Anima bit her lip. “Time and space are both extremely vast in the universe,” she said. “There doesn’t have to be a wormhole able to send us back.”

“What about the one that sent us here?” Daianya asked.

Anima was already shaking her head. “That was artificial, it closed the second we were through and I didn’t get a chance to see how it was made. The fact that we ended up on a place like Sakaar with its rather bizarre existence might indicate that it attracts unstable wormholes and encourages them to end here.”

“The contest is due to begin soon and we have been, uh, _invited_ to watch,” Odin said. “Will you be able to study the wormholes while we’re there and try to find one that’s as close to our time as possible?”

“I’ll certainly try,” Anima said.

Daianya tilted her head as a thought occurred to her. “Are we cut off from Yggdrasil as well? I don’t feel like I am, but I don’t call in it often.”

All three of them stopped and focussed.

“I can still feel it,” Odin said. “The call, it feels like a rising tide.”

“I can feel the way it buzzes inside me,” Anima said. “I always feel like I’ve just swallowed a bee.”

Daianya reached inside of herself and called the power of Yggdrasil to her. Her eyes began to glow orange. “I always taste warm milk and honey for some reason,” she said, looking upwards. She tilted her head back and forth, scanning something far beyond the ceiling. “I can see souls through the wormholes near to us,” she said. “But no one I recognise.”

“Keep looking, both of you, maybe if you work together we can find one that’s close enough,” Odin said. “Even if we have to hide out for a few centuries that’s still better than nothing.”

Anima shot him a look, but he missed it. Daianya gave her a comforting hug.

The door opened without warning and Topaz walked in, looking extremely bored. “I’ve been sent to _deliver_ clothes for you to wear to the Contest. The Grandmaster doesn’t want anyone in his viewing box to look shabby,” she said, sneering with her eyes.

 _Nal can do that look,_ Anima thought to Daianya.

Topaz dropped the bundle of clothes on the floor. “Oops,” she said and walked out.

Odin picked out a pair of pants and a light-coloured shirt. “There’re two dresses here,” he said.

Daianya sighed. “Just because I showed up wearing one doesn’t mean that’s my preferred attire,” she complained.

“Oooooh a blue one,” Anima said, “Mine!”

****

Topaz reappeared about half an hour later to escort them to the Grandmaster’s viewing box. She was a stone-faced, stout woman who looked as though she’d seen the universe and all it contained and hadn’t been particularly impressed. The three of them followed her in silence, Odin and Daianya scanned their route for information on possible exits, Anima was busy looking beyond their surroundings at the multitude of wormholes above their heads.

“There you are!” the Grandmaster said in a delighted tone at their arrival. “Come in, come in, the Contest is just about to start. You should know that my current champion is _quite_ the beast, I am expecting some excellent sport tonight. Did you, uh, did you like your new clothes? I had Topaz choose something for each of you.”

The clothes, once on, had all been too small by several sizes. Anima had gone to work with a selection of expanding spells and had greatly enjoyed the look on Topaz’s face when she returned to see everything fitting perfectly.

“They’re wonderful. Thank you Topaz,” Daianya said, dropping a polite curtsey.

Topaz glared at her.

The Grandmaster smiled and clapped his hands in delight. “Excellent! And so polite. I do like polite guests, especially after almost having my arena ruined by your arrival.”

“Did I fix it well enough?” Anima asked him.

His stare turned intense for a second. “Why yes, you did a remarkable job. Tell me, are you the reason my dampeners aren’t working?”

Anima shrugged. “Are they broken? Or is the background magic just low?” she asked.

He stared at her for a few seconds, but she just returned his gaze with a polite smile.

“Come and sit!” he suddenly announced, returning to his jovial mood. “I can’t wait to see what you make of our contenders.”

They joined him on the overly long couch that spanned almost the length of the box. The Grandmaster gave them all a broad smile, his gaze lingering on Anima for just a fraction longer than the other two before he turned and stood up, walking up to a projection device. It activated and he was suddenly projected fifty feet high above the arena, which was packed with spectators.

“Welcome! My people, oh it’s good to see so many faces here tonight! Welcome to my Contest of Champions! We have a special treat for you tonight! The Great Mancor will face off against the even Greater Alacnar!”

There were wild cheers from the crowd. People were waving banners, others were wearing costumes. Daianya and Anima scanned the arena with interest as Odin kept a close watch on the Grandmaster.

“But first! A special display of some of our newest hopefuls and, uh, others. Let’s hear it for the gladiators!” The Grandmaster finished.

The crowd went even madder as two groups of people emerged from either end of the arena. They didn’t appear to have much in common, their armour was piecemeal and their weapons ranged from swords and spears to daggers and maces.

The Grandmaster came and sat back down, picking a drink off of an offered tray and gesturing for the other three to take one as well. They did, Odin held his with a smile, Daianya took what certainly looked like a sip, Anima studied hers curiously before concentrating slightly and then drinking.

“Magic isn’t to be used in the arena, my dear,” the Grandmaster said. He was smiling but his eyes were hard.

Anima shrugged. “I can’t drink this as is, it’ll make my bones explode and then you’ll be covered in junk. Not to worry, I took care of it,” she said.

Again the Grandmaster gave her a long stare before turning back to the fighting.

The gladiators weren’t bad, as fighters went, Daianya was of the opinion that she could have taken them, but in the case of at least one not without some effort. She glanced nervously across at Odin, who did not look worried.

The fighting ended in a single victor, who raised his arms up in victory with a roar of delight as the crowd cheered.

“Well done,” the Grandmaster said, his voice boosted by technology to echo around the arena. “What an exciting match! And well done to the winner, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of him in the future. But now, the event you have been waiting for, the true contest, thirty contenders, all different, all strong, all clever, all here together at last! Will any of them finally beat my champion? The Greater Alacnar!”

The crowd exploded with excitement. Streamers were thrown, people were dancing in the stands, music and drum beats were playing, as the doors once again opened and the first of the contenders walked out. 

The Greater Alacnar was easily three times Odin’s height. He had eight arms, with a sword in each, and when he gnashed them his teeth were razor sharp in his mouth.

Daianya and Anima both looked across at Odin inquiringly, but he only gave them a smile.

“And facing him first, our latest contender, a visitor from afar like so many of them are, Uroch the Lord of Blood!” the Grandmaster intoned, grinning in delight as Uroch made his appearance.

The Grandmaster came to sit down, turning to face Odin with a grin. “Alacnor hasn’t been beaten in the last eighteen contests,” he said brightly.

Odin just nodded and watched closely as the fight began.


	31. An Unexpected Champion

The fight was swift and bloody. Uroch the Lord of Blood lost all of his, along with most of his limbs, within fifteen minutes. Alacnor gave a roar of victory and turned to face the box.

“Send me another!” he yelled.

“Damaged his lower left arm in that last clash before Uroch fell,” Daianya commented.

“He’s favouring his right side too, that blow to the ribs must have been hard,” Odin replied.

The Grandmaster watched their conversation with interest before rising and once again projecting himself to the crowd.

“Well wasn’t that exciting?” he said, “I was almost quivering. Alacnor, are you certain you wish to another?”

“Send him to me!” Alacnor roared, and the crowd screamed in delight. “I will destroy them all! I will tear them limb from limb! I will – ”

Whatever else he was going to do to them was cut off abruptly by someone falling onto him, who hit him as terminal velocity, having appeared some two minutes earlier high up in the atmosphere.

Alacnor exploded into a shower of blood and flesh as he was struck in the back. His body hit the ground a second later with a hard thump.

The arena went silent. The Grandmaster stared down at Alacnor in shock. 

“My… my champion. Who killed my champion?” he babbled. “Topaz, someone has killed my champion.”

Down where the body of the unlucky Alacnor lay there was the sound of a crunch, followed by the head of Loki popping up from the centre of the corpse. He was eating his apple.

“Sorry!” he called out, “I tried to shout a warning but everyone was being so loud that I don’t think he heard me!”

“Who is this? Who are you? You _killed_ my _champion_ ,” the Grandmaster said. “Topaz, arrest that man.”

Topaz picked up her staff and left the box as Loki located the source of the projection.

“Hi there!” he called out, “I’m looking for some people, some friends of mine. A man named Odin, bit of a warrior when he wants to be, Daianya, red hair like a giant cloud, and Anima, she’s highly magical, you can’t miss her!”

The Grandmaster turned on the spot to look at the three of them, sitting together on the couch. “He’s a friend of yours?” he asked. He was smiling, but not in any way that indicated that he was happy.

“That’s Loki,” Anima said. “He kind of just turns up sometimes.”

“Can I come up?” Loki called from the ground, “I’ll come up!”

“He killed my champion,” the Grandmaster said.

“To be fair, Father was going to do that anyway,” Anima said.

The Grandmaster blinked in disbelief. “I have serious doubts about that. Alacnor was unbeatable.”

“Then why is dead?” Anima asked.

“I’m here!” Loki called out, making the Grandmaster jump. Loki had climbed the structural supports up to the box and was hanging on to the outside of the viewing screen like a cat on a screen door. “Oh, there you three are!”

Anima made a movement with her hand and the screen disappeared. Loki caught himself on the edge of the balcony and clambered over to the inside. “Thanks,” he said as the Grandmaster turned from one to the other, not sure who to scowl at.

On the ground, Topaz walked out of the doorway and began looking around, trying to see where Loki went.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Loki said, “There were some doubts. Nal’s really upset.”

“She would be,” Daianya said. “There’s a horrible empty space in our heads where she should be, I’d hate for it to be twice as big.”

“Have you figured out how to get back yet?” Loki asked Anima.

“Um… excuse me, but you killed my champion, you, you, you don’t get to stand around and talk. My people came for a spectacle,” the Grandmaster said.

“I blew up a man by landing through him, that’s not enough?” Loki asked.

“No,” the Grandmaster said, smiling his unnerving smile. “You killed my champion, so now you have to replace him. Guards, send him back down there and send out the next one. Let’s see what other tricks you have up your sleeves, hmm?”

Loki looked at the three of them and shrugged. He reached into his pockets and handed Anima a piece of paper and his apple.

“What’s that?” the Grandmaster asked at once.

“My personal effects,” Loki said snootily, “I don’t want to get any blood on them.”

The paper already had a fair amount of blood splattered on it, along with a small amount of spleen.

“I don’t want to get any _more_ blood on them,” Loki corrected as the guards grabbed him by the arms and began to head for the door.

“No, no,” the Grandmaster said, “He came up by the window; send him back the same way.”

They obliged, lifting Loki up in the air and tossing him out of the window to tumble to the ground below.

Daianya and Odin both winced as he hit the hard-packed dirt.

“Good thing he’s strong,” Odin commented.

“I certainly hope so,” said the Grandmaster, “Otherwise this won’t be much of a competition now will it?”

He stepped back on the projector. “Good people of Sakaar! My people! Loyal people! This man, this, uh, Lolli – ”

“Loki,” Anima said absently.

“ – shall take the place of our champion!” the Grandmaster finished. “If he believes he ought to skip the order and fight early, then he shall be the one to face all the others!”

“I don’t believe anything,” Loki said, climbing to his feet, but his voice was drowned out by the crowd, quick to abandon their last champion the moment he fell.

The door opened at the far end and a large, red, heavily tusked man strode out with a roar.

“Please give a _very_ warm welcome to our next contender, Bylour of Starlind!” the Grandmaster announced. “He can breathe fire!”

“So can I when I’ve had the right stuff to drink,” Loki muttered. He picked up one of the late Alacnor’s swords and held it awkwardly. It was clearly too big for him, but there weren’t any other options.

“So, uh, if your friend wins, to get that ship you will have to kill him,” the Grandmaster said to Odin. “Oh this just got fun again!”

Topaz returned, looking furious.

Daianya glanced over at Anima who was staring intently at Loki’s notes.

 _What is that?,_ she asked.

 _Runes, travel runes from Vanaheim to here, time runes from our time to Sakaar’s personal one,_ Anima responded. _Loki’s brought the original spell with him, or at least most of it._

 _Can you reverse it?_ Daianya asked.

 _I need time,_ Anima replied, _I’ve never worked with time spells before, they’re famously complicated and have the side effect of creating all kinds of alternate worlds. But if I can figure it out then we can go home._

 _Will we still need a ship?_ Daianya asked.

 _I’m afraid so, either to reach the point where the spell will start or to ensure we don’t die in space close, but not quite close enough, to Vanaheim’s atmosphere._ Anima responded.

Daianya turned back to the fighting so that Anima could concentrate. Odin didn’t seem to upset at the thought of having to kill Loki, but then he was a master at bluffing, for all she knew he had a new plan brewing even now.

Loki was being chased around the arena by Bylour. He had abandoned the sword and was surviving with a combination of speed and manoeuvrability. Bylour was screaming in frustration as the crowd screamed with laughter at the spectacle.

“At least he’s entertaining,” Odin commented to the Grandmaster, who was watching with a growing look of despair.

“My contest,” he said sadly.

Loki reached the point where Bylour’s larger legs finally caught up with him, and stopped dead in his tracks, reversed direction and jumped into Bylours arms.

“Hello darling,” he said and planted a kiss on Bylour’s nose before pulling out one of the daggers from Bylour’s belt and stabbing him in the neck with it.

Bylour made a horrible choking sound and began to fall. Loki leapt clear and turned to blow the crowd kissed as behind him, Bylour hit the dirt in an ever-growing pool of blood.

The Grandmaster pouted in annoyance. “Send in the next one,” he called, waving a hand imperiously.

The next one was some kind of lizard person, who immediately charged where Loki stood.

“Loki’s good at not dying,” Odin commented. “Of course if you want your contest to continue _properly_ then you can always send us away. He’ll come with us, I assure you.”

The Grandmaster gave him a serious stink-eye. “I’m sure that your friend’s tricks will run out soon,” he said.

They looked back at the arena; Loki was riding the lizard man, using its long facial tendrils as reins.

“As you wish,” Odin said.

****

Loki managed to defeat four of the contenders that day, and the Grandmaster announced with clear dislike in his voice that ‘Lolli’ would be fighting again tomorrow. 

Loki blew kisses to the crowd even as he was escorted under guard out of the arena.

The other three were permitted to go back to their room, which they did as quickly as possible.

“Tell me Loki brought you something useful,” Odin said the second they were alone.

“He did, kind of,” Anima said. “The spell that brought us here is almost complete, but there’re some runes missing, I can tell because there should be a stabilising rune here and another travel rune here, otherwise we would have arrived much higher in Sakaar’s atmosphere.”

“Like Loki did,” Odin said.

“Yes, he did appear to have arrived significantly higher. Even with Jotun strength I’m surprised he wasn’t at least badly hurt,” Anima said.

“He’s always been lucky,” Odin said. “I fully expect him to tell me one day that he’s been the God of Luck all along.”

“I can reverse the runes… mostly,” Anima said, “But it’s not going to be precise. The original spell was randomised, so the destination could have been anywhere from high in the atmosphere to about fifty feet underground. We’ll have the same problem if we reverse it.”

“So we still need a ship or some kind of protective barrier to prevent us from being harmed upon arrival,” Daianya finished.

“Damn,” Odin said. “I was hoping we could get away without needing one.”

“You won’t kill Loki, will you?” Daianya asked.

Odin shook his head. “It’s not one of my plans,” he said, “The problem is that now that Loki is fighting in the contest, if he wins he becomes the Grandmaster’s champion, who I am bound to fight, but if he loses then he will be dead.”

“We have to find a way to alter the bet,” Daianya said.

Odin nodded seriously. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I have a way, but you two are going to have to trust me,” he said, “Because it involves promising one or both of you as a reward.”

“Disturbing,” Anima said, “But if it’s necessary then I’m on board.”

“The Grandmaster likes interesting people,” Odin said. “His box was filled with people all of kinds, and he kept looking at you, Anima, every time you used magic.”

“I don’t think he’s interested, I think he hates me,” Anima said.

“I think he hates that he can’t control you,” Odin said. “But there were a lot of people in that box wearing little control discs, and I saw a few getting punished here and there throughout the day. The Grandmaster keeps slaves, and I think it would please him to have you and your powers at his command.”

Anima nodded thoughtfully. “Once again I am a pawn in the games we play,” she said with a slight dramatic flair. 

Daianya snorted. “You’ve never been a pawn in your life,” she said, “More like co-conspirator.” 

“I think you might be involved too,” Odin said to her. “You are strong and capable, a good fighter. He’s not a fool, he can see it. You might have to agree to be one of his gladiators if I lose.”

“Just don’t lose,” Daianya said. “But I still don’t know how you’re going to change the bet.”

Odin sighed slowly. “With great difficulty and a lot of manipulation,” he confessed.

****

Loki was snoozing in the dungeon they’d put him in. He had a brand new shiny obedience disc on his neck and a positive attitude to make up for the fact that he was sleeping on a cold metal floor.

The movement of the other prisoners kept waking him. 

“You’d think the champion of the day would get better accommodation,” he said, trying to shift into a better position, “And food. Don’t even have my apple anymore. This is not acceptable at all.”

He waited, dozing on and off, until the place grew quiet and the foot traffic of the guards disappeared. Then he rose and went to the door. He tried to summon some magic and found it difficult, almost as though something was trying to draw it away before he used it.

“Bloody dampeners,” he muttered.

A few more minutes of hard effort and he managed to push through the dampeners and force the lock to unclick.

The corridor was empty, he made his way along it as quietly as he could. He needed one of those controller things that would remove the obedience disc. Loki wasn’t a fan of being made to do things. He snuck up on a guard who clearly wasn’t expecting trouble and slammed his palm into the man’s neck. The guard made a choking sound and fell to his knees. Loki hastily searched the man’s pockets and sighed with relief when he uncovered one of the operating modules. He was still fiddling with it when the obedience disc at his neck suddenly went off.

“It’s the girl,” Topaz said as he hit the floor shaking like a leaf, “She keeps sabotaging the dampeners. Let me put a disc on her, she’ll learn quickly enough.”

“I did say that they were my guests,” said the Grandmaster’s voice, “But okay, why not? I don’t like cheaters and I can, I can just tell that she’s a cheater.”

Loki was dragged back to his cell by another guard as Topaz and the Grandmaster walked away. Only once he was locked back inside did the disc stop activating.

Loki rubbed his neck with a groan. 

“Oh well,” he muttered, “Drastic it is.”


	32. The Power Primordial vs Yggdrasil

The following morning, the guards arrived at the cells to discover a pile of limbs and blood-drenched walls. Loki was sitting on top of the pile with a satisfied expression.

“What?” he asked as they rushed him, “They attacked _me_.”

They grabbed his arms and yanked him off the pile, holding him still as one of them ran around the cells looking for survivors.

“They’re hiding around the corner,” Loki offered helpfully. “This lot went down rather easily, I must say, I can see why they get used to warm up the crowd, as a main event they’re just rubbish.”

One of the guards shoved him, Loki responded by punching the man in the face as hard as he could.

A second guard activated the punishment device, but Loki just smiled gleefully and punched him too. He grabbed one of their weapons from their belt and shot all three.

“I’ll take that,” he said, retrieving the small activation device and skipping to the door. He slammed it shut, locking the other guards in with the remaining prisoners and dashing away as fast as he could.

****

Anima had just finished brushing her teeth when there was a knock on the door. Odin pulled it open and Loki came running in.

“Oh good,” he said, “The first three rooms weren’t right and now some lady and fellow who were in the middle of something rather intimate want me dead.”

“Not exactly a new state of affairs for you,” Odin said.

“Accurate,” Loki replied before turning to Anima. “Can we leave?”

“We need a ship to protect us, otherwise we might end up in space and very dead,” Anima said. “Father has promised to fight the champion of the contests in exchange for one.”

“Ah,” Loki said, “I was going to be the champion,” he said to Odin, sounding slightly miffed.

“Your arrival did put a dent in our plans,” Odin said. “I’m trying to make a new one, but it didn’t involve you coming to see us here.”

“I could go back, but I did kill some people,” Loki said awkwardly, “Some of them were guards so I can’t see this ending well for me.”

“Can you escape the complex and wait for us outside?” Daianya asked, “If you are missing then Father can fight whoever wins instead.”

Loki nodded. “Good plan, I’ll just see myself out then,” he said and opened the door.

Topaz was standing on the other side of it. She was not alone.

“I knew you’d come here,” she said. “All of you come with me.” They stepped out of the room reluctantly and lined up, surrounded by guards. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble,” Topaz said as she led them through the corridors.

“To be completely fair, most of that was me,” Loki said. 

“Actually, our arrival kind of ruined the arena’s main surface,” Daianya said.

“But I fixed it!” Anima protested.

Topaz remained silent the rest of the way as she led them up to a large room with lots of seating and different coloured lights.

“Party room, nice,” Loki commented. 

The Grandmaster stepped out from behind a pillar and approached them. “You killed some of my guards,” he said. “That wasn’t, that wasn’t very nice.”

“They attacked me first,” Loki said, “Granted I goaded them into it, but a guard with no self-control is not someone you want to be watching prisoners, I mean, us scum of the earth will do and say anything to get free.”

Topaz held up a control device and pressed the button, Loki jumped and slapped his own arse.

“Oooh, that actually tickles a bit,” he said, and pulled out the punishment half of the device. “I took it off,” he said helpfully.

“Taking it off causes instant death,” Topaz said.

“Yes?” Loki responded politely.

“Are the magical dampeners still down?” the Grandmaster asked. “Did he use magic to remove it?”

“Oops,” Anima said, earning herself a glare from both the Grandmaster and Topaz.

“I think it’s fair to say that you don’t want us here,” Odin said, causing all eyes to turn to him. “We also wish to leave as quickly as possible, should we not help one another under the circumstances? My daughter can strengthen your anti-magical devices considerably, in exchange for a ship to leave safely in.”

“That was not out agreement,” the Grandmaster said, shaking his head in a disappointed fashion.

“I was hoping to make a new one, to account for the change in circumstances caused by the arrival of Loki,” Odin replied, keeping his voice calm.

“I do mess things up often,” Loki said.

“I promised to fight your champion,” Odin said, “And if you insist on keeping the deal then I will do so, although that means another day of watching Loki humiliate everyone you have out there, because despite his rather interesting personality he’s an absolute fiend when it comes to a fight.”

Loki grinned proudly and pointed to himself while nodding.

“I think I’d quite enjoy watching you kill him,” the Grandmaster said.

“Not as much as you’d think,” Loki said. “I’m only entertaining when I _want_ to be.”

“On the other hand,” Odin continued smoothly, “If a spectacle is what you are after then I’m sure we can provide. All of us against all the rest perhaps?”

“Three of you are clearly fighters<” Topaz said, “And you wouldn’t make that offer if you didn’t think you would win.”

“Well, yes, that’s how bets work,” Loki said. “We think we’ll win, you take the bet if you think we’ll lose.”

“You said you’d fight the strongest person on Sakaar,” the Grandmaster said. “I remember, do you remember, Topaz? He said that, the strongest person on Sakaar. That doesn’t have to be the winner of the contest.”

Odin frowned in suspicion as Topaz looked smugly at him and said “Yes I remember.” 

“Well it’s settled then!” the Grandmaster said. “You don’t have to fight the winner of the contest, you have to fight the strongest person on Sakaar.”

“And who is that?” Odin asked.

“Me,” the Grandmaster said, still smiling, “This is my world after all, your power versus mine, one undeniable champion.”

Odin’s frown deepened as Anima focussed her attention on the Grandmaster and then winced.

“You’ve got a lot of power,” she said.

For the first time since her arrival the Grandmaster smiled at her. “Oh yes, the power, the Power Primordial is what those who can access it call it. It’s a lot stronger than simple magic.”

“So why did you let me keep draining the dampeners?” Anima asked as Odin handed Mjolnir off to Loki and shook his shoulders out.

“Because I wanted to see how strong you were; you have such a fragile frame I find it almost… uh… amusing, to watch you wield such strength,” he said, still looking at her with a smile. “And, uh, after I dispatch your father then you and I are going to have a serious talk about all this sabotage. I don’t _like_ sabotage, it upsets Topaz, doesn’t it upset you, Topaz?”

“It’s very upsetting,” Topaz said, staring her down.

“In fact, I think you should all be taken prisoner right now, for security,” the Grandmaster said. “Then once I’ve won we can discuss how you can all make reparations for all the trouble you’ve caused.”

The guards stepped forwards and grabbed Anima, Daianya and Loki by the arms. They pulled out punishment devices and reached forward to attach them. Anima blinked and the devices turned into spiders which bit through the guard’s gloves.

“You haven’t won yet,” she snapped.

The Grandmaster’s smile vanished. “Shall we begin?” he asked, turning to Odin.

Everyone backed away from the two of them, most of the guards stepped back so far they were pressing against the walls. Only Topaz really stood without any sign of fear.

“Alright, fill me in, what is the Power Primordial? It sounds fancy,” Loki said to Anima.

“It’s… it’s hard to say, it’s like what magic was before it was magic,” Anima said. “I can see it within him, it’s growing brighter as he summons more of it. Father is strong but this is _ancient_ , older than Yggdrasil, and I think it might be more powerful, in fact I know it is, I can see it.”

“So he’s going to lose?” Loki asked awkwardly.

Anima swallowed nervously.

“He might win if he can land a blow that knocks that Grandmaster out before the power can be fully unleashed,” Daianya said. “They never actually agreed to a strictly magical battle.”

Odin appeared to have reached the same conclusion, and rushed the Grandmaster, landing a hard punch to his face before following it up with another three of equal power. 

Anima reached out and took Daianya and Loki’s hands, one blink later and they could see what she could. The Grandmaster was glowing from within with a bright white light. It already hurt to look at and they got the distinct impression that the build-up had barely begun.

Odin landed several more blows and strikes against the Grandmaster, and the light dimmed slightly with each one, but it came back more strongly within seconds. Anima bit her lip.

“Odin’s really good at winning,” Loki said. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

The light left the Grandmaster’s body and spiralled outwards, catching Odin in mid-air. He hung there, grimacing in pain as the light tried to tear him apart. All three of them felt a shift in the power of Yggdrasil and Odin’s eyes snapped open. They were bloodshot and burning with inner light. His clothes changed as his godly armour appeared, the helmet of wings and horns appeared on his head, a sword with a thick and well-notched blade appeared in his hand, and he sank down until his feet touched the ground. He raised Mjolnir and began walking towards the Grandmaster, pushing back against the flow of power straining to turn him into stardust.

The Grandmaster’s eyes narrowed and he pushed harder, sending more power through towards Odin, who stalled in his steps. A few seconds later he began to sink to his knees.

“I’ll admit,” the Grandmaster said with strain in his voice, “I was expecting less resistance.”

Odin pushed himself back up to his feet, the Grandmaster responded by sending even more power.

“He’s got a lot more to call on,” Anima said softly, worry in her voice.

Daianya wasn’t listening. She had been distracted by something else that was going on off to the side. Topaz had pulled out a small box and was touching something inside of it. Both the box and her whole body were beginning to glow orange.

 _What’s she doing?_ Daianya asked.

 _What?_ Anima responded.

 _Topaz, she’s glowing with orange power. I think she’s cheating,_ Daianya thought.

 _I can’t see anything,_ Anima said.

 _You can’t see all that light?_ Daianya asked, surprised.

 _Not a thing, do you want me to knock her over?_ Anima asked.

It took Daianya another few seconds to figure it out, but when the realisation came she gasped out loud. “It’s soullight.”

“What?” Loki said, still watching as Odin managed another step against the growing tide of power that was causing his skin to start tearing apart.

Daianya watched as Topaz waved a finger at Odin and the orange light began to reach for him. In a sudden rush of adrenaline she reached out for it, calling on Yggdrasil’s to help her. The orange light twisted in the air and flowed into her instead.

Daianya recognised the feeling the moment it hit her. It felt the same as her own power only magnified a thousand times, or a million, it was hard to tell. The world slowed down until everything seemed to stop and she looked around her from person to person. It wasn’t until she turned around to look at Anima that she realised that her soul had left her body.

She stormed over to where Topaz was standing and looked down into the box. What lay there was an orange stone, glowing steadily with unimaginable power.

Daianya picked it up. Despite only being a soul it came to her easily, then she turned and walked back to where her body still stood, having not yet had time to fall.

She narrowed her eyes at the Grandmaster and made a flicking movement with her hand. His soul was yanked out of his body and hung in the air, looking startled.

“Topaz, you were supposed to – ah, you’re not Topaz,” he said awkwardly.

“No, I’m not,” Daianya said, “And this isn’t your power. This is cheating, and blatantly so.”

“Technically you’re the one who used it, so you’re the one who cheated,” he said, still hanging. He spun slightly in the air, unable to find purchase in the ethereal realm.

“I’m keeping this,” Daianya said. “And you will fight fairly, because if you try to involve someone else again then so will we, and I’ll rip your soul out while Anima turns your body into a flower and then Loki’ll eat it.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m winning anyway,” he said, “And as adorable as that threat is, I don’t like them when they’re being made at me. I will deal with you shortly, I promise.”

Daianya let him fall back into his body, stepping back into her own a second later. To her horror the Grandmaster was correct, Odin was on his hands and knees, fighting just to stay alive. The brief moment the Grandmaster had spent out of his body had caused only the slightest dip in his power which had already risen again. 

The Grandmaster turned and gave her a wink.

Odin’s head rose up.

Anima made a squeaking sound which she hastily muffled.

Topaz was searching the floor around her, looking for the stone which had been in the box a second ago.

Odin pushed off from the ground. He looked like a dying man but his face was set and determined.

“There he goes, winning again,” Loki commented, although the way his shoulders sagged indicated that he had been a lot less sure of the outcome than he had tried to present.

The Grandmaster began to frown in confusion.

“That’s the thing about the God of War and Victory,” Loki said conversationally as Topaz began patting her pockets, “Give him long enough and if there’s a way through he’ll find it.”

The white light of the Power Primordial began to glow from within Odin before pushing back against the Grandmaster, accompanied by the golden light of Yggdrasil and Odin’s own magic.

“I mean, if someone like the Grandmaster can summon that kind of power, then there has to be an avenue, a pathway, some kind of roadmap,” Loki said. “And that means anyone _can_ do it, if they can find the way.”

Odin began walking towards the Grandmaster, who was backing away nervously.

The light between them was blinding now, so bright even the non-magical people in the room could see it. Everyone was forced to look away as Odin reached the Grandmaster and wound up his arm.

The blow, when it came, caused a shockwave large enough to blow out all of the windows and crack several of the walls. The Grandmaster hit the ground with a hard thump, leaving Odin standing over him, cape flowing, eyes glowing, every inch a god.

“Now,” Odin said in a voice that rang with the chorus of a thousand victory halls, “Give me a ship.”


	33. Thanos: Bringer of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I’m sorry for the delay in posting, there was a slight issue on my end.
> 
> My computer F*CKING died.
> 
> One moment I was watching a YouTube video on my lunch break, the next minute the whole thing just shut off and I had to spend $500 to get it repaired. A piece on the hard drive snapped off due to age, but it’s okay now because I have a new hard drive and, more importantly, remembered where I left my 8 year old Microsoft Office CD install disc. 
> 
> This update means nothing for the story because the story lives in my head and mostly gets written as I get to each chapter, although I did lose my collection of snappy comebacks for Loki that I jotted down every time I thought of one, and about 10,000 words of the fourth story that I decided to get a head start on one day (oh well, at least I know what happens).
> 
> Honestly the hardest part was staring at a blank page which should have held all my notes. I don’t _need_ them, but they were comforting, like a friend, and now they are gone.
> 
> I thought about telling you all but I wasn’t sure how to. Leaving a note on the most recent chapter can easily get overlooked, leaving one as a new chapter seemed a bit cruel, so in the end I left it and hoped that you would all be able to forgive me for disappearing for so long without a word.
> 
> As you can probably tell by the update, my computer is now back. I will try not to keep you waiting so long again.

Hela was almost at the end of her tether. King Dimcken had to be the most annoying, sycophantic, pathetic little man that she’d ever met. He stood almost six inches taller than her, but it was easy to look down on him with the way he kept nervously glancing at King Bor and wringing his slender hands with their overly-long fingers. Hela fought a sneer every time he spoke.

It was now mid-morning, and the investigations had been ongoing since dawn. So far no progress had been made and King Bor was getting impatient. That at least Hela found amusing. Perhaps there would even be a war with Vanaheim? Odin dead, Daianya dead, Nal even less popular than Hela, and a good war to whet her appetite? Bliss.

The sound of music and chattering drifted in from the windows and Bor frowned.

“What is that?” he asked.

“That’s the peoples’ celebration, your Grace,” Lady Wearveil answered, “It was too late to cancel it with all the preparations involved, so it’s going ahead without us.”

“I sent Dorgen down there, he’s just a child and it was better to have him out of the way right now anyway,” Queen Boaldia added.

King Bor grunted and took a mouthful of wine. “Where are the investigators? Why haven’t they reported in by now?”

A messenger arrived at the door and knocked, getting their attention. Hela watched with interest as he bowed deeply and handed Bor a note stamped with the seal of Lord Elbin.

Bor tore it open and scowled. “Bloody Kronans are always giving us trouble,” he spat, throwing the note into the nearby fire. “Commander Lomax will sort them out.”

“I could go and help?” Hela offered, hoping for a way out of her boredom. 

“No, you stay here,” Bor said. “It’s a small skirmish anyway from what this note says.”

Hela fought back a sigh of disappointment and took a small sandwich instead, trying her best to look calm and appropriately heir-like. She still had high hopes that there would be no survivors, but until it was all over and a sufficiently long period of mourning had been observed she had to at least pretend to look concerned.

****

Dorgen wandered among the crowds, followed by two guards and a servant about his age. He did his best to keep a smile on his face but inside he was seething. There was a major crisis occurring in the palace and his mother had sent him out to the celebrations like a _child_.

Were it not that he’d been taught all his life not to let the common people see if he was upset he’d be scowling deeply right now. Instead he stopped at a stall and bought a pastry for himself and his servant, who gave him a wide grin and tucked in happily without any of his superiors around to see him.

Dorgen wandered along to another stall. Wondering whether anyone had managed to figure out what the magical element of the attack had actually done. He hoped very much that Daianya was alright. She’d been a lot of fun on holidays and hadn’t once treated him like a kid.

He was distracted for a few moments by a troupe of dancers who were twirling around with ribbons for clothing. Granted it was a lot of ribbons, and they covered far more than they revealed, but there was something about the nature of them that made Dorgen swallow hard and think some very grown up thoughts.

He turned away after a few minutes, not wanting word of lingering to get back to his mother, and headed further towards the main plaza, a long, tiled, spacious area currently filled with different stalls and teeming crowds, with the enormous fountain sat in the centre. The water shot up from the statue in the centre and cascaded down over the half-naked nymphs, deer and alpecs on its way to the wide catchment at the bottom. Dorgen wandered around the edge of the fountain, resisting the urge to balance on the edge the way he had when he’d been younger. 

Over on the far side of the plaza the noise of the crowd changed. Dorgen frowned as the sounds of merriment slowly turned to cries of alarm. He darted around the fountain, ignoring the yell of the guard behind him, and tried to see what was happening over the heads of the crowd.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and he was pulled backwards.

“Sorry, your Grace, but if there’s trouble breaking out we have to take you to safety,” said the guard, pulling him away.

Dorgen reluctantly turned to go, aware that incidents in large crowds could turn deadly very quickly if panic broke out, but something caused the guard to stop moving.

The crowd parted in a panic to reveal a Titan standing on the raised dais at the far end of the plaza. He was wearing a golden gauntlet and a triumphant grin.

Dorgen’s eyes grew wide. He’d only heard stories of the Titan war and had grown up hearing about the viciousness, the ruthlessness, and the toughness.

Guards were pushing their way through the crowd, swords drawn, trying to reach the Titan even as Dorgen was roughly pulled in the other direction.

The Titan held out his hand, encased in a shiny golden gauntlet, and closed it into a fist.

For a second Dorgen was confused, there was a light coming from the gauntlet, some kind of energy weapon? 

But then the light shot outwards in all directions, and all he felt was rage.

****

The sound of merriment filtering through the overly large windows of the palace reception room was grating on Hela’s ears. She wanted to ask them to close it and shut the sound away, but that would be considered rude and right now Hela didn’t want to take any chances.

“They’re having quite a good time, aren’t they?” King Bor said gruffly, nodding at the window.

King Dimcken almost flew out of his seat in his desire to appease. “I’ll have the windows shut at once,” he said.

So that was how it was done, Hela noted approvingly.

The servant closest to the window leaned out to reach the chain that would pull it closed and froze.

“Your Majesty, something’s gone wrong, the plaza is a mob!” he exclaimed.

Hela forced a frown instead of a smile onto her face as she joined everyone else in hurrying to the windows.

“What the bloody hell?” Bor exclaimed as they viewed the carnage below them.

People were attacking one another like animals, biting, punching, tearing with their hands and nails. A man who had been manning a roasting pit lifted the hot spit skewer and stabbed the person nearest to him without so much as a moment of hesitation.

“Dorgen is down there!” Boaldia yelled and turned to run from the room, Lady Wearveil at her side.

Bor drew his sword and ran after them, Hela on his heels as Dimcken followed with a scurry and a whimper.

They ran out of the palace and across the front courtyard. Guards at the gate blocked their way.

“Let me through! Dorgen is out there!” Queen Boaldia screamed.

“I’m sorry, your Grace, there’s a Titan, he’s causing panic, we’ve alerted General Braeveen and sent the rest of the guards in to find Prince Dorgen,” the guard said, still holding her back.

“Titan? Come on Hela,” Bor said, pushing past them and shouldering his way into the crowd. 

Hela grinned and followed, shoving people out of her way with delight as she made her way up the main street to the plaza ahead.

She had just reached the plaza’s entrance and laid eyes on Thanos when he raised his hand and clenched it, sending a wave of yellow light across the crowd of new arrivals, down the street where she’d came, and across the courtyard of the palace, catching everyone in its path.

The light hit Hela where she stood, and suddenly reaching Thanos didn’t matter anymore, no, all that mattered was the rage.

Hela summoned twin blades and began to slash.

****

Nal was waiting impatiently for the first report of the Kronan attack from the field when Lord Elbin reappeared like the bad smell she considered him to be.

He gave her a nod and a smirk as he approached, clearly knowing that she was annoyed to see him.

“I sent you to Vanaheim, Lord Elbin,” she said.

“My apologies, your Grace, you sent me to deliver a message to the king, which I have done,” he replied. “I’m sorry for misinterpreting your instruction.”

For a moment Nal seriously debated with herself about freezing him solid and just dealing with Bor’s anger when he got back, but she managed to restrain herself. She was not a monster, no matter what they might think.

“Just stay out of the way,” she said.

“Sub-commander Homier is reporting in,” said Commander Lomax, “He’s engaged the enemy.”

Nal nodded, fighting the urge to deliberately turn her back on Lord Elbin.

“The viewing orbs are in position,” Commander Lomax reported as two large screens flickered to life, giving them a view of the battlefield.

Nal looked over each one carefully, aware that she was not a strategist or a warrior, and was almost certainly missing important details. Were it not for the presence of Lord Elbin she would have asked questions and tried to educate herself, but she felt that any sign of weakness when he was around was a bad idea.

There was chaos before her eyes. Men were leaping, slashing and blocking in such rapid succession it was hard to keep up, but after a few minutes she began to see patterns among the madness. Men stuck together in small groups, backing each other up and protecting each other’s flanks. Others would charge in as more fell back to let them through. Nal found herself glancing from group to group with ever-growing awareness. She began to anticipate when each group would move based on the ones beside them. 

“That side is weak,” she said, pointing.

Commander Lomax frowned and leaned in for a closer look as Lord Elbin made a huffing sound from behind her.

A few minutes later the side she pointed at collapsed, and the middle was forced to reinforce them to prevent the charging Kronans from breaking through.

Commander Lomax shot Nal a puzzled look. “Have you ever studied battlefield strategy, your Grace?” he asked.

“No,” Nal said, “But it was obvious from the way they were slower to respond compared to the other side.”

Commander Lomax turned back to watch the battle again just as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and an army messenger came running in.

“Attack!” he yelled, still running to reach them, “Attack in Vanaheim, a Titan! It’s chaos down there and the King is caught up in it!”

Nal frowned at him and glanced briefly back at the viewing orbs, suddenly suspicious about the timing of the Kronan attack. “Is the King in trouble?” she asked, “Does he need backup?”

“We don’t know, we got a message from one of the guards who went with him but it’s hastily written and scarce on details,” the messenger said.

“Send a viewing orb to Vanaheim,” Nal said at once, “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

“Vanaheim is a sovereign realm and sending a viewing orb is akin to openly spying on them,” Lord Elbin said from behind her, “But surely you knew that.”

The corner of Nal’s mouth twitched and she made a movement with her hand. A sheet of ice formed from her feet to his and a snake of ice twisted up his body, encasing it and ending in his mouth.

“Send the orb, along with an apology letter,” she said, walking away from the throne and leaving the trapped Lord Elbin behind her. “It’s better than an army, and with a third of our men fighting a Kronan attack right now it is far better to see what is going on before sending reinforcements.”

She followed the messenger outside to the secondary Bifrost site, out in the main army assembly yard. An orb was fetched from storage and dispatched through the Bifrost.

“If Sub-Commander Homier needs help you have cut him off,” Commander Lomax said. “The orbs only work with the help of the Bifrost.”

“If Sub-Commander Homier needs help then he ought to have taken more men and planned better. You’re the one who told me it was just a raid,” Nal shot back, making him glare. “Someone fetch General Solveig,” Nal added. “If this ends up involving the Valkyrie she ought to have as much notice as possible.”

“I doubt the Valkyrie will be needed, not for one Titan. Our King has probably already dispatched him,” Commander Lomax said as the viewing screen flickered to life.

They stared at the screen for a moment, speechless.

“Summon the rest of the army,” Commander Lomax said, “NOW.”

“Wait,” Nal said, “Why are they fighting each other? No one is going for the Titan, not even those closest to him.”

“A spell?” Commander Lomax asked as the front door opened and a freed, but still shivering, Lord Elbin came striding out.

“Assault!” he barked, “Assault! Even from a royal that’s still assault!”

“I will eat you,” Nal said bluntly, making his steps falter under her glaring eyes before turning back to the screen. “It has to be a spell, look the King is attacking Vanir civilians, he would never do that willingly.”

“We have to get down there and help him,” Commander Lomax said.

“And then what? Fall under the same spell? No, we can’t send anyone until we know it won’t make things worse,” Nal said.

“So what would you have us do? Stand and watch?” Commander Lomax snapped.

“Use the Bifrost,” Nal said. “It’s activated from a distance, move people out of harm’s way.”

“Where? If the spell doesn’t break then they’ll just keep fighting wherever we put them,” Commander Lomax said.

“Look,” Nal said, pointing.

The Titan raised his hand and clenched his fist, a new batch of arrivals suddenly turned on one another.

“He’s recasting it over and over,” Commander Lomax said.

“Use the Bifrost on him,” Nal said. “Aim it at him and try to send him somewhere empty, like the surface of Svartalfheim, or one of its moons, anywhere he can’t keep doing this.” 

Svartalfheim still has people beneath the surface,” Lord Elbin called out.

Nal ignored him as General Solveig came from around the corner, looking concerned. 

“What’s going on, your Grace?” she asked, looking up at the screen, “ _Vanaheim?_ ”

“Yes, there’s a Titan using some kind of spell to drive people mad with anger,” Nal said quickly. “We’re going to use the Bifrost to remove him if we can.”

“He’ll probably jump out of the way before it can be activated,” Lord Elbin said.

“That’s true, the Bifrost is a transport device, not a weapon,” Commander Lomax said.

“Anything is a weapon if you use it right,” Nal said. “And if he’s too busy jumping out of the way then he can’t keep casting that spell, can he?” She turned to the operator. “Try to grab him, and no matter what, keep trying. Let’s make this Titan dance.”

General Solveig grinned. “Make him dance until he starts falling off his feet, then send through a small attack squadron. He’ll be so used to nothing coming out that he’ll be prone _and_ taken by surprise.”

Nal nodded. “Put one together, General,” she ordered. 

“The army – ” Commander Lomax started to say.

“Put one together, _General,_ ” Nal repeated.


	34. Her Father's Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Look, you know from the previous chapter that things are very violent at the moment. This is fair warning that it gets worse, not better, and some parts are described rather graphically. If you don't think that's for you then please let me know and I'll give you a sanitised summary in the comments.

Frigga heard the sound of the crowds outside and glanced out of her window. She was tired after her work that morning and frustrated that it had come to nothing.

Loki was honestly one of the most infuriating people she’d ever met. How did he even know that the runes would send him somewhere survivable? He could be dead right now, along with Odin, Daianya and Anima, and no one had any way of knowing.

Norbleen and Haewkyr were sitting together on the couch in Norbleen’s room, hands intertwined. Norbleen had been mildly unnerved to find out that Frigga knew his and Haewkyr’s secret, but Haewkyr had smoothed it over relatively easily by pointing out that Frigga was too astute not to find out eventually.

Frigga was just starting to think about getting something to eat when the noise form the crowd surged again, making her turn to the window again.

“They’re certainly throwing a major party out there,” Haewkyr commented as Frigga rose and looked out over the front of the palace and down towards the main plaza.

“Something is wrong,” she said, concern growing in her voice as she tried to make out what was going on at a distance, “That’s not partying. I think there’s a riot!”

Norbleen shot out of his seat and joined her at the window. “Yggdrasil’s branches, they’ve gone mad,” he gasped.

There was a flash of light which shot out towards the palace, Norbleen and Frigga instinctively ducked.

“That looked like a spell,” Frigga said.

“Dorgen went down there this morning,” Norbleen said, straightening up and turning to find Haewkyr had already collected his sword and was holding it out.

“Mine’s in my room, I’ll meet you down there,” he said.

Norbleen gave him a quick kiss and ran out of the room.

“Come on, Frigg, I’ve got a training sword as well, you can have that,” Haewkyr said and they dashed out of the room.

Frigga ran as fast as she could, silently cursing her heels which were far too decorative and fragile for proper sword work. She reached her room and kicked them off, grabbing her sturdier walking shoes and pulling them on as Haewkyr reappeared in her doorway.

“Here, be careful, stay out of that spell light, and I’ll see you down there,” he said, tossing the sword onto her bed and taking off.

Frigga finished pulling on her shoes and grabbed the sword. Her skirts were heavy with petticoats but unlike her heels, she’d been running in clothes like that her whole life.

She ran down to the palace entrance and sprinted across the courtyard as fast as she could. The yard was deserted, everyone who had been there had either fled or been taken over by the spell. She kept an eye on the area where the light had come from, ready to duck out of the way at the first sign that it was being cast again.

She reached the main plaza and stumbled to a halt. Everything was chaos. People were tearing into one another with their bare hands. Others were biting and kicking, those with weapons were stabbing with abandon. Frigga scanned the people in front of her but she couldn’t see Haewkyr or Norbleen.

“Splitting up was a terrible idea, gentlemen,” she mumbled and ducked out of the way of a man trying to tackle her. She slammed the hilt of her sword onto the back of his head and he went down with a horrible thud.

Frigga ducked and weaved her way through the crowd, trying to see who was at the centre of the spell, when a light came down from the sky. She recognised it instantly as the Bifrost.

“No,” she gasped, “Don’t send reinforcements, not until the spell is broken!”

****

Thanos could have chosen a more orderly way of attacking the people in front of him, but after the viciousness of what they chose to call the Titan War he was in the mood to create carnage. 

And create it he did. The people were filled with blinding rage. Everywhere around him people were attacking each other with no regard for their own safety. Men were dropping dead of their injuries in the middle of attacking someone else. Blood was growing thick on the ground. 

Thanos smiled. He’d had little reason to do so in so long, but now he felt that he could indulge a little. The Space Stone was still out of reach, but not for much longer, and for now the Mind Stone’s power was more than enough. 

He reached out his hand again as he saw more soldiers enter the plaza and immediately try to break up the fighting.

A light appeared over his head. The Bifrost; he knew it well from the war. The rainbow light was often followed by swarms of warriors baying for blood.

He’d been expecting it. He had not, however, been expecting it to appear directly above his head.

He jumped out of the way, gauntlet ready, watching for the appearance of the first warriors.

Instead it shut off. A second later it reappeared over his head again.

They were trying to move _him._ Get him away from Vanaheim.

Thanos jumped again, narrowly escaping the activation that followed the light.

****

He’s moved again, realigning target,” said the Bifrost operator from Asgard.

Nal nodded and waited as the viewing screen flickered off as the Bifrost was cut. It came back to life almost immediately as the Bifrost was reactivated.

“He’s moving again, realigning,” called the operator.

“Keep up the pressure, don’t let him use that spell again,” Nal ordered.

**** 

Tarah was lying on her bed, trying not to mope, when the order came in from General Solveig.

“Squad Nine, get ready for an assault, there’s a Titan on Vanaheim. Bifrost yard as soon as you’re ready!”

She sat up and exchanged a look with the others, who were in the middle of various quiet activities.

“Vanaheim,” was all she said.

“Come on,” Norah said as Squad Nine scrambled to get ready, “At least we can find out what’s going on.”

The group ran down to the Bifrost yard and stopped as they saw the viewing screen and the chaos that was on it.

“General,” Tarah called out without thinking, “Daianya’s down there!”

“No she’s not,” Nal said without turning her head, “She’s been missing since this morning.” She turned and saw who she was talking to and her face softened ever so slightly. “We were still trying to find her when this happened.”

Tarah felt her knees go slightly weak. “Missing?” she repeated, “But you know where she is? You always know where your sisters are.”

“Not this time,” Nal said, turning back to the screen, her face worried. 

“Stay out of the way unless you’re needed,” General Solveig said to them as the thirty members of Squad Nine arrived. “Squad. There’s a Titan down there. We’re harassing him right now to get him unbalanced. Be ready to go through and attack the moment I give the signal. He has a spell that turns people against each other so this attack will be swift and merciless or else you will perish alongside out Vanir friends, clear? Good.”

Tarah just looked from one person to another, already forgotten.

“They’re doing their duty,” Tiree said softly in her ear, “They don’t know.”

“Neither does Daianya, and if something’s happened to her then I’ll never forgive myself for not telling her,” Tarah said.

****

Frigga was doing her best to save people, pulling them free from the fighting and using a spell to put them to sleep before they could attack and hurt her. She mostly aimed for children, they wouldn’t last as long as adults and the spell ensured that there was no mercy shown to anyone no matter how vulnerable they were. Already the plaza stank of blood and ripped guts. She used her sword only when necessary, but the sheer number of people was making it harder and harder to avoid killing her own citizens.

A guard ran up at her, eyes wide and face creased with rage. She swung and tripped him at the same time, hitting him in the back with her sleep spell. He went down, but a second later another man began stabbing his sleeping body with a wooden post. Frigga tried to put him to sleep to but someone grabbed her hair and pulled her backwards, trying to bite her face and neck. She ran the woman through and tried not to think about it.

This was battle. This was what her father had chased his whole life and what he had died in. It didn’t seem worth it. 

Instead she did her best to save people, dragging them away to safety and putting them to sleep, sometimes the other way around if she couldn’t subdue them any other way. It was hard, and frightening, and horrible, and she wished that Haewkyr or Norbleen would appear and help her, but they were both off somewhere in the crowd, hopefully still alright.

The spell had not been activated since the Bifrost had shown up. It kept lancing down at the far end of the plaza but never seemed to fully activate. Whatever it was doing was helping though which was fine by Frigga. 

****

Norbleen pushed, shoved, and occasionally slashed his way through the crowd trying to reach the source of the spell, or failing that, find his brother. Dorgen was only thirteen, strong and capable, but not a grown man and not a fully trained fighter. The source of the spell was at the far end of the plaza which made getting to it a real struggle. The crowd was so thick even managing a single step took hard effort.

If he could stop the spell then everyone would calm down and Dorgen would be easier to find, hopefully he hadn’t been killed or badly hurt yet. There were a disturbing amount of fallen children on the ground which Norbleen did not want to think about, not yet. Later on there’d be time to think and mourn in equal measure, right now he had a duty.

The Bifrost was appearing and reappearing at the end of the plaza like some kind of party light. It seemed to have stopped the spell from being recast which was good, but the source of the problem was still there. A Titan, big and purple, and currently stumbling out of yet another Bifrost lock.

Norbleen pushed harder against the crowd and tried to get to the clear space where the Titan was leaping about.

Someone jumped in front of his path and he almost swung until he recognised Dorgen.

Dorgen had picked up a guard’s sword. It was too unwieldy for him, but Norbleen knew the dangers of people wielding weapons that they couldn’t control. He blocked Dorgen’s first strike easily and tried to knock the sword from his brother’s hand.

“Dorgen! Dorgen can you hear me?” he called out, blocking each wild and reckless slash. If he wanted to he could have beaten his brother by now, but only by killing him. Instead he tried to push the sword away, or to twist it from Dorgen’s grip. “Dorgen!”

Dorgen was lost in the power of the spell. His face was contorted with pure rage. His strikes were clumsy but made with all of his strength. There was no reasoning with him. Norbleen caught the blade again and again, trying to find an opening that wouldn’t kill his brother.

Someone grabbed him from behind and he slammed his elbow back into their stomach to make them let go.

Dorgen ran him through.

The sword bit deeply into his lower chest, only just missing the heart. He gasped and coughed, tasting blood. 

Someone hit Dorgen on the side of the head hard enough to knock him out. He and Norbleen tumbled to the ground together, falling side by side. Norbleen reached out a hand as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come.

“Dor…Dor…” he tried to say. His hand just managed to touch Dorgen’s hair where it had fallen across the site of the blow. Norbleen couldn’t tell if it was fatal or not. He tried to reach further, but his arm wouldn’t move and his vision was going dark.

“Dor…” he croaked softly, and then he was flying, up and away, down pathways and branches to Fólkvangr, the spirit world of the Vanir.

****

Frigga pulled another unconscious person away from the plaza. Her arms and legs ached, she was out of breath and her head was starting to hurt from the constant spell work.

It was then that the scream reached her. She knew that voice, although she’d only ever heard it scream once before, when the messenger had arrived to deliver the news that her father was dead.

It was her mother. Taken by the same rage as everyone else, Lady Wearveil had run into the square and into the fight, but she was no warrior. Fires had broken out from overturned food stalls, and one had set the nearest building ablaze. Several crazed men and woman had tumbled into the flames, and Lady Wearveil had fallen in with them. 

The fire had ignited her skirts, and the pain had driven the spell from her head as she screamed in helpless agony.

Frigga was on her feet and already running before the scream had even finished. She dove over fighters and prone people alike, ducked through swinging weapons without a thought, slashed a man’s face as he tried to grab her. They were nothing, they _meant_ nothing, the only thing that mattered in the whole world was reaching her mother.

She dived into the flames without hesitation and lifted her mother up bodily. Her own skirts caught fire as she turned and ran from the burning mess. 

The fountain. She had to reach the fountain.

She felt the heat of the flames on her legs as she ran, and a horrible burning at the back of her head that told her that her hair was on fire. But it didn’t matter. The fountain was getting closer. Her mother had stopped screamed, but the fountain was almost within reach.

Frigga pushed off from the ground as she reached the fountain’s edge, jumping the low lip and sending both of them crashing into the water. She dropped her sword as her head came up and she grabbed handfuls of material and shoved it beneath the water, quenching the flames from her mother’s charred skirts.

The burns were horrific. Lady Wearveil’s face was a mess of half-melted, half-charred flesh. One eye was fused shut and her hair was missing. She was shaking badly and gasping in desperate little gulps of air.

Frigga was hyperventilating with panic. Her mother’s face filled her vision. She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know – 

_A Lady does not panic_

Her mother’s voice, her mother was almost unconscious and in no shape to help with anything, but a lifetime of hearing her voice brought it into Frigga’s mind sharp and clear.

She pulled in a deep breath, and her panic began to fade.

_A Lady is in control_

Frigga had studied healing magics. She knew what to do. The spell for rapid, unspecified healing dropped into her head and she began to recite the words.

First lesson of healing: Stop the damage from spreading. 

The worst of the burns closed in front of Frigga’s eyes.

Second lesson of healing: Pain relief to stop shock.

The next spell spilled from her lips without a pause and her mother’s breathing slowed as the pain dulled. Frigga gently moved her until she was resting against the body of the fountain and in no danger of drowning.

Third lesson of healing: Reassure the patient.

“You are going to be fine, Mother,” Frigga said, and her voice was as calm and steady as a rock. “I will get you out of this.”

_A Lady always does her duty_

Frigga reached into the water, picked up her sword, and turned to face the violence beyond the fountain. It wouldn’t take long for someone to see them there and charge in to attack, and Frigga had to be ready.

Because there was another duty that a Lady had. One that would be found in no etiquette book, nor manners class, one that was never even spoken of but passed from mother to daughter by way of silent observation. One that was carried out in a thousand different ways under a thousand different circumstances. One born of long wars and absent husbands. Sometimes it happened when there was a siege, sometimes when there was famine, sometimes where there was nowhere to turn to but a cruel bedroom and a crueller Lord.

A Lady defends her own.

Frigga held the sword ready and waited, a guard like no other. The first man to run at her got a slash to the face and a kick out of the fountain. The next caught a flash of light to his eyes so bright he stumbled away on his own. No matter how they came, no matter how many, Frigga stood in their way, and defended her mother.

Like a goddamn Lady.


	35. Mind versus Soul

Topaz escorted Odin, Loki, Daianya and Anima to the Grandmaster’s private ship storage facility with an expression of absolute disgust. Odin’s godly armour still hadn’t worn off and he strode ahead like he was about to charge into battle.

“Here,” Topaz said, unlocking the last code, “You can have the Territory.”

“The blue one? With the damaged engine manifold?” Loki said.

Topaz turned to argue, caught sight of Odin glaring at her with glowing red eyes of fury, and thought the better of it.

“There’s also the Falcon,” she said.

They inspected the Falcon. It was a small, well made ship with a solid, space-faring body capable of withstanding wormhole level pressures. Loki looked it over with a discerning eye.

“It’ll do,” he said.

Topaz released the controls and stalked away without looking back at them.

“I hope she’s going to open the doors or I’m going to have to fly straight through them?” Loki said loudly as she left the room.

Topaz returned and jammed some buttons like they had personally offended her.

They climbed aboard the ship and Anima and Loki checked it over with magic.

“I can’t detect any traps or security systems left in place,” Loki said as Anima nodded.

“Let’s get out of here then,” Odin said, slumping into a chair. The armour faded, as did the red glow from his eyes. What was left in their place was sweat and exhaustion, his hands started to shake.

“Father!” Anima exclaimed and ran to him, hovering her hand over his head and checking him over with magic.

“I’ll be alright,” Odin said, “But we need to get out of here before they decide to do something to stop us.”

Daianya and Loki sat in the two front seats and examined the controls.

“These are quite different to what I’m used to,” Daianya said.

“Me too, but most ships are at least a little instinctive in their operating systems,” Loki said, pressing buttons.

The ship came to life with a whooshing sound as power rushed to the systems. Loki poked about experimentally for a moment and the ship lifted awkwardly off the launch pad. Odin gave a sigh from behind them and began to slump in his chair. 

“Hold on to something,” Loki said, guiding the ship out through the hatchway that Topaz had begrudgingly left open for them.

Anima helped Odin pull on a seatbelt, clipping him into his chair as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Asgardians are not well equipped to channel the Power Primordial,” Odin said in a shaky voice. 

Anima sat beside him and strapped herself in. “Just hold on, we’ll get home and take you right to the healers,” she said.

He gave her a shaky smile. “Is the damage really that bad?” he asked with a knowing look.

“You need experts,” Anima said softly as the ship left the Grandmaster’s complex behind and took to the atmosphere.

“I feel like I need to sleep,” Odin confessed, “Just sleep.”

“Can we take any of these wormholes out of here?” Loki asked Daianya, who was checking the scanner, “I don’t know whether the runes I brought will be good enough, there may be too many missing.”

Daianya gave up on the scanner and looked up, turning her head all around her instead, her eyes glowing orange as she looked at wormhole after wormhole. “I can’t see anywhere that leads to people I recognise,” she said, “And that scanner isn’t good enough to pick up time dilation effects. We’re going to have to rely on Anima.”

“Not even the really big red one?” Loki asked.

Daianya looked at it and raised an eyebrow, “I can see Asgardians, but no one I actually recognise, could be the future, could be the past,” she said. 

“Damn,” Loki said, and then suddenly swerved the ship as another vessel came flying out of a wormhole and spiralled towards the ground.

“Anima? We need you,” Daianya said, shaking away the vision of souls from her eyes and focussing back on the ship’s controls.

“Here,” Loki said, pulling the tesseract from his pocket and handing it back to her, “It’s help give you a push.”

Anima looked up from where Odin was half-conscious in his seat and pulled out the page of runes with a look of fear in her eyes. “I haven’t had much time to study the full complexity,” she said, taking the tesseract.

“We could take one of these wormholes to a whole new place and time to give you some more time to study, but that might make it even harder to get back to the right place,” Loki said, “We trust you.”

Anima took a deep breath and looked at the runes again. She’d read them over several dozen times but the actual spell was so complex that she didn’t feel confident at all.

“It’s just numbers,” she whispered to herself and shut her eyes. “Fly straight ahead and try not to deviate at all,” she said out loud.

The magic came to her call like an old friend. Welling up from inside of her and flowing in from all around her. The tesseract shone in her mind like a beacon as she laid claim to its powers as well. She took a slow breath in and let the power shift through her and flow out to surround the ship.

A wormhole began to form around them as they flew, pressure buffeted the sides and made them rock hard. Loki compensated as best he could in order to remain steady as the spell reached its height and activated around them.

****

The Grandmaster watched his fourth favourite ship disappear into the wormhole with a pout on his face. One of his eyes had been blackened by Odin’s blow and he was still reeling from having his own power pulled out from under him.

Topaz appeared at his side, silently fuming.

“They took my shiny stone,” the Grandmaster complained. “I _liked_ my shiny stone. My brother wanted it but I kept it, because it was so shiny… and, uh, deadly.”

“There’s an incoming communication from Scrapper 142,” Topaz said, glancing down at the alert on the screen beside them, “She says she’s found you a new champion, a quote ‘big green bugger’.”

The Grandmaster looked up hopefully. “Ooooh… he can join the contest! We’ve lost too much time already, this could be wonderful!”

****

The wormhole was mostly correct. As the pressure built both outside the ship and in Anima’s head she made adjustments on the fly, trying to keep them inside the centre where the pathway was safe.

After what felt like an eternity of balancing a million tiny scales all at the same time, the pressure eased as the spell reached its end and they shot out into calm space. Anima put her head back and let out a slow sigh of relief.

“Where are we?” Loki asked. 

“When are we?” Daianya asked.

They both checked the scanners.

“Well, we’re near Vanaheim,” Loki said, “Close enough to land.”

“The palace has a ship landing area. I’ll send a communication,” Daianya said.

“If we didn’t make it back to the right time then they’re going to find this weird,” Loki said.

“The navigational chart just updated from their nearest satellite,” Daianya said, “The date is… the day after we left – we made it!”

Everyone in the ship breathed gave a sigh or chuckle of relief. 

“Taking us down,” Loki said, smiling.

He entered the atmosphere as Daianya sent a communication asking permission to land. After a few minutes she frowned in confusion.

“There’s no answer,” she said. “The palace is not responding at all.”

“Tell them it’s you, if you’ve gone missing they’ll be on high alert but surely they’ll be glad to hear from you even if things are really busy,” Loki said.

Daianya sent another message. 

“Still nothing,” she said.

“Should I land somewhere else?” Loki asked.

“No,” Anima said, “I’ll stop any incoming deterrents, it’s more important to get down there right now and get Father to a healer.”

Daianya and Loki both turned to look at Odin, who was almost unconscious.

“Heading down,” Loki said, turning back to the controls. “Everyone make sure you’re secure, I do not know how the landing controls work.”

He guided the ship downwards and into the atmosphere. It began to shake slightly from the increase in resistance and the nose began to heat up.

“Ease up a little,” Daianya said.

“Got it,” Loki said, concentrating hard.

Anima stayed on alert for incoming weapons’ fire but there was nothing.

“Something is wrong, they should have challenged us by now,” she said.

“We’re coming in low over the palace,” Loki called out.

“What’s going on in the plaza?” Daianya asked, “There’re a lot of people… dancing?”

Loki brought the ship closer and both of their eyes widened. 

“Not dancing,” Loki said, “ _Not dancing!_ ”

“There! Look, a Titan!” Daianya said, pointing in surprise.

“I’m bringing us down in the courtyard,” Loki said, “We need to stop him.” The ship hit the courtyard with a hard jolt, throwing them all hard against their restraints. “Sorry!” Loki called out as he pulled the straps off and sprinted to the opening hatchway, Daianya at his heels.

Odin forced himself upright and staggered after them with Anima hovering around him anxiously.

****

“Daianya and Anima are alive,” Nal said suddenly, sounding relieved. “They’re on Vanaheim.”

Tarah jerked in place at the words and almost took a step forwards before remembering that she was supposed to stay out of the way.

“They’re back?” General Solveig said.

Nal nodded. “They’re back in my head, they’re about to enter the plaza from the far end. How is the Titan faring?”

“Badly, he’s starting to lose his balance with every jump,” reported the Bifrost operator.

“Keep it up, as soon as he falls over send the Squad,” Nal said. “With Anima there she can hold back the spell even if he manages to cast it, I’m sure of it.”

****

The four of them reached the plaza entrance and stopped at the sight of the chaos before them.

“We have to stop him,” Loki said, nodding at Thanos. Odin nodded his agreement.

“We have to stop _her_ ,” Daianya said, pointing across to where Hela was summoning blades at rapid sped, killing everyone who came within her view. 

“The Mind Stone,” Odin gasped, “That’s Thanos, and he has the Mind Stone. She can’t break its hold, almost no one can, it’s too powerful.”

He turned in surprise as Daianya pulled Mjolnir from his grasp and threw it as hard as she could at Hela’s head. The throw was true and slammed into Hela’s skull, dashing her brains across the plaza tiles.

Odin turned to look at Daianya in slack-jawed shock.

“She can’t _die!_ ” Daianya yelled at him and tapped her pendant to summon her armour and weapons. She drew her swords and handed one to Loki. “Let’s go,” she said, “Anima, can you keep the stone from affecting us?”

Anima nodded, “I can,” she said and threw her hands up, creating a shield that protected them from incoming projectiles. They took off running, leaving Odin to stagger forwards towards Hela’s body, which, to his relief despite what he knew of her, was pulling itself back together.

He didn’t make it, and fell to his knees. All he wanted to do was sleep but he fought it as hard as he could. Sleep right now was asking for death. He raised his hand and tried to summon Mjolnir back but it only trembled on the ground. With a sigh he slumped down and tried to look inconspicuous.

****

The crowd was too thick. Even with Anima’s shield Daianya and Loki struggled to get through, especially as they were trying not to kill anyone they came across.

“This is madness!” Loki called out, shoving yet another crazed Vanir away from him. “They’re killing themselves!”

Daianya could see the conflict within them. Bodies and souls were usually in sync, but now the souls looked like orange hosts overlaid on the bodies and actively trying to fight with them. They were screaming in pain as their bodies killed people, twisting and fighting to get free of the Stone that controlled them.

Daianya pulled Loki in closer so that they were backed onto the far side of the large fountain with no one at their backs. “Can you take him without me?” she asked, nodding at Thanos.

“I don’t want to,” Loki said.

“But can you?” she asked.

“If I must,” Loki said.

“Anima, I need you to protect me, because I won’t be able to protect myself,” Daianya said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the Soul Stone. “Loki, as soon as you have a clear path go straight for him, you need to take him out before he can use his stone again.”

She gripped the Soul Stone tightly and concentrated. The power of it was harsh and almost overwhelming, but Yggdrasil came to her aid. Her eyes glowed orange, her hair crackled with light, in a moment, her goddess form overtook her, making her look almost ethereal as she reached out and grabbed every soul she could feel.

Then with a cry of effort she pulled every single one of them out of their bodies.

Every single Vanir in the plaza collapsed. They fell so fast that Thanos, who had just leapt once again from the Bifrost’s light, was temporarily stunned at the sight.

Daianya fell to her knees from the power coursing through her veins. This was far more power than she was made to wield, and were it not for Yggdrasil’s gift of her godhood she would already be burning up. 

Loki charged directly at Thanos. He leapt over bodies and debris alike, bouncing from spot to spot like a dancer, occasionally using magic to create a stepping stone if there wasn’t one available.

****

Odin saw the falling bodies around him and sighed with relief, at least they weren’t dying anymore. A splash caught his attention and he realised that a woman had fallen into the fountain, her curly blond hair was floating on the surface of the water. 

He staggered to his feet and forced himself to walk towards her. She didn’t deserve to drown for Thanos’ actions. He made it ten steps before he fell to his knees. Bubbles were flowing up from the water as she lost her breath. He crawled further, hauling himself as hard as he could. He might be useless to face off against Thanos right now but he could at least save one person.

He made the last few feet on his belly and hauled himself up the side of the fountain with a gasp. He reached in and grabbed her by the hair – he didn’t have enough strength to do anything else – and with a final cry of effort he pulled her head up out of the water and over the edge of the fountain. Water fell from her mouth and hit him in the face.

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled and passed out.

****

Thanos cursed under his breath as he leapt again out of the way of the Bifrost. This was not going to plan at all, and adapting was proving difficult because no one was coming through the damn thing to attack him. He had to get to somewhere undercover but the fighting crowds had made that impossible.

And then they had collapsed. It had happened so fast that he had almost been caught in the Bifrost, but managed to get out of the way just in time. At the other end of the plaza, just by the fountain he saw a woman glowing with a powerful orange light. Something about her made him think of the old stories he’d been told in his youth of afterlives and the strange beings that watched over it.

Her hand was glowing with – 

_THE SOUL STONE_

The actual Soul Stone, on Vanaheim, within his grasp!

The Bifrost light reappeared and he cursed, running out of the light and towards the woman who remained on her knees glowing bright.

A weapon came flying out from his right and he instinctively raised his hand to block it. Unfortunately for him, it was Mjolnir, and it was in no mood to be blocked by something as pathetic as a Titan. It hit the gauntlet on his right hand, causing it to buckle slightly, and the Mind Stone to go tumbling out.

“You _fucking_ bastard!” Hela screamed from across the plaza. The blow that had smeared her brains across the ground had well and truly broken the Mind Stone’s control and now she was in full Goddess of Death form, charging towards him with no thought for those under her feet.

Thanos turned and dove after the Mind Stone as it skittered across the tiles, falling off his feet as the Bifrost once again activated above him and he tried to avoid the light. He saw Loki approaching at speed and grabbed his weapon, throwing it at the trickster as hard as he could. The blow knocked the sword from Loki’s hands but he didn’t slow as he reached the edge of the crowd and used a platform of magic to spring into the air.

“Hela! Weapon!” he screamed while in flight.

Thanos turned and reached for the stone as Hela summoned an axe and threw it to Loki, who caught it mid-air and began to fall down to where Thanos lay prone.

For the first time since the attack started the Bifrost finished its sequence and thirty Valkyrie came charging out towards Thanos’ position.

Thanos’ right hand closed over the Mind Stone; Loki’s axe came down on his arm, cutting through the flesh and snapping the bone. Thanos roared in pain and reared up, throwing Loki, who was still holding onto the axe, halfway across the plaza. The gauntlet came flying off at the same time, unable to stay on Thanos' limp and unresponsive hand. Thanos picked up the Mind Stone in his left hand and frantically tried to reach the teleporter controls on his belt.

He activated it just as the first Valkyire reached him, disappearing upward onto his ship just before the first sword slashed across where his neck had been.

Daianya dropped the Soul Stone, letting it fall onto the ground before her. The souls that had been hovering in the air above their bodies snapped back instantly, pulled by the connection that she’d been fighting against.

She let her goddess form fade and slumped hard against Anima, who caught her and hugged her tightly. “He’s gone,” Anima said, “You can relax.”

“Good,” Daianya said, “Because I’m exhausted.”

****

Frigga opened her eyes and groaned at the pain in her stomach from lying across the fountain edge. Beneath her was Crown Prince Odin of Asgard, who was unconscious.

“Well, at least he made it back,” she moaned and pushed herself up. Her mother was trying to move, which was probably a mistake. Frigga crawled through the water to reach her. “Come on, Mother, let’s find you some help,” she said.

She carefully lifted her mother up into her arms and carried her out of the fountain and towards the palace. She was met by the palace healers, most of whom had wisely remained out of the plaza while the fighting was happening. They placed Lady Wearveil on a stretcher and began to move her inside.

“I have to find Haewkyr,” Frigga said to her, “But I’ll come and find you once I know he’s safe.”

Lady Wearveil reached up a badly burnt hand and stroked Frigga’s cheek gently before the healer cast the first of what would be many spells and put her to sleep.


	36. The Goddess of Souls

Anima left Daianya to rest and began helping with the wounded. Daianya watched her move from person to person, sending the same rapid healing spell over and over to save as many lives as possible from the gravely wounded. 

With a grunt of effort Daianya pushed herself up to her feet and staggered forwards. She knew basic battlefield healing but didn’t have any bandages or healing rune stones on her. Instead she helped pull rubble and other debris off of people who were trapped, and tried to help others move toward the healers who were flooding the plaza now that the fighting was over.

Her head hurt. The Soul Stone was back in her pocket and it felt… angry? No, not angry, but definitely hostile. It didn’t want to be here. Daianya didn’t question how a stone could have wants, it just did.

“I’ll put you down when it’s safe,” she mumbled as she moved through the crowd.

A scream made her head jerk upwards. There were a lot of them going around as people found their loved ones wounded and dead. But this scream was different, the voice was familiar. Daianya pushed through the crowd and staggered to a stop, heart plummeting at the sight before her.

Dorgen was wrapped around the body of Norbleen, clinging to him like the child he still was and sobbing huge, gulping breaths as tears poured down his face.

“No no no no no wake up wake up wake up,” he sobbed, shaking Norbleen’s body desperately. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, wake up wake up _please!_ ”

“Who did this?!” The shout made her jump. It was King Dimcken, battered and bruised but still alive. He stared down at the body of his son and his face began to crumple. “My boy, my perfect boy! Who’s sword is this? Which guard did this? I want his head!”

“Thanos did this,” said Loki from behind him, watching the crowd with shrewd eyes. “Thanos took over everyone, no guard did this.”

“I don’t care! I want to know whose sword that is and I want his head!”

Loki made a small gesture with his hands and then retreated. Daianya frowned at his sudden exit but didn’t follow it further, she was too distracted by the sight of Dorgen’s soul, which was almost torn in two.

She could see the guilt all over him, and she knew, with utmost certainty, that Dorgen had been the one holding that sword.

He looked up and saw her watching him. “Bring him back,” he begged, “Please, you can control souls, bring him back!”

King Dimcken turned to look at her, the hope in his eyes was painful to look at, but far less so than the disappointment that was about to be in Dorgen’s.

“I can’t,” Daianya said. “I can see and talk to souls but I can’t put them back in a body that cannot hold them. The connection is broken, no soul can inhabit that body without using the darkest and most corrupting of magics.”

Dorgen’s face fell and he began sobbing again, his hands fisted around Norbleen’s shirt as he let out another heart-wrenching scream.

Queen Boaldia staggered up to the group. Her hair was half torn out and she had slashing cuts across her legs. Her large skirts had saved them from crippling her entirely. She saw Dorgen on the ground before Norbleen’s body and fell to her knees beside him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

“This cannot be,” King DImcken muttered, “He’ll never be the king Norbleen would have been. Why couldn’t it have been Dorgen?”

Daianya turned away from him in disgust. Norbleen had told her that Dimcken wasn’t fond of Dorgen but to hear him say such a thing out loud over the body of his son was sickening.

She looked up into the pale and shocked face of Haewkyr.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

Haewkyr just shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from his fallen love but still not yet believing it was true. Before her eyes she saw a tear appear in his soul, damage only love lost could cause.

“Haewkyr,” Frigga said, coming up from behind him, her voice tinged with relief. She saw what he was looking at and froze. “No.”

Haewkyr choked back a sob and pushed his way through the crowd, fleeing back to the palace before the tears could begin to fall. Frigga ran after him, not ever noticing Daianya as she stood there, as useless as a fur coat on a Jotun.

****

“Wake up”

Odin opened his eyes just in time for the slap to hit him hard across the face. Loki was inches from his nose.

“Let me sleep,” he mumbled and tried to close his eyes again.

“No, you have work to do,” Loki said.

“Later,” Odin said.

“No, now, before the crowd leaves, come on, get up.”

Loki hauled him to his feet.

“What could you possibly need right now?” Odin asked.

“You know I don’t have mind magic or I’d do it myself,” Loki said, nodding at a gathering of people in the distance. “Can you see all the ones I’ve marked with magic?”

Odin nodded, it was hard to find his magic right now, everything inside of him was fuzzy, but he managed it.

“I need you to reach into their heads and remove the memory of young Prince Dorgen saying the words ‘I’m sorry’. It’s very important, people aren’t stupid and they will start to ask questions once the dust has settled,” Loki said.

Odin groaned and looked at him. “Why?” he asked.

“Do it first, before they leave, then you can ask why,” Loki said.

“Is it really that important?” Odin asked.

“It will save his life, I guarantee it,” Loki said. “You’ve always got the strength to save a life, Brother, I know that for a fact.”

Odin turned back to the crowd and concentrated. His head hurt, oh by Yggdrasil it hurt, but the memories were freshly made and easy to find. It flickered in his mind and he nodded. “I see what you mean,” he said and concentrated.

A second later he passed out, but Loki shook him until he woke again. “Did you do it?” he asked.

Odin nodded. “It’s gone, he just keeps saying ‘wake up’ Odin confirmed. “Now for the sake of out brotherhood let me sleep.”

“My son!” Bor shouted from across the plaza. “You’re alive!”

“Tact of a drunk bull, that man,” Loki muttered.

Bor came running over to them, shooting a scowl at Loki. “You aren’t meant to be here,” he said.

“I’m not technically meant to be anywhere,” Loki said, “And yet here I am.”

“You look ill, son, let’s get you to the healers,” Bor said, looking over Odin with concern.

“I just want to sleep,” Odin protested as they hauled him bodily back towards the palace.

****

The fighting had destroyed everything close to the plaza. Buildings had been set alight and it took hours to extinguish them all. Wounded were taken to every nearby hospital, but still more people were left huddling in what shelter they could find, their homes and livelihoods destroyed in less than thirty minutes. 

The nobles retreated to the palace. They were in shock at the death of Norbleen and the sheer scale of the attack made by a single Titan, who had never even used his weapon.

Blame began to spread quickly, people were resentful and frightened, the King did nothing other than demand an investigation into the owner of the sword that had killed his son. Dorgen fled to his rooms the moment his head was seen to and locked the door behind him, refusing to admit even his mother who had to be taken to see the healers against her will, so strong was her desire to stay with her child.

Daianya debated for an hour, but what really clinched her decision was turning her eyes to the spiritual realm to look for Norbleen’s soul. It was easy to find, it was the only one trying to wrench open the doors of Fólkvangr and get back out. A woman’s soul stood beside him and appeared to be pleading with him to stop. Based on the similarity of features Daianya assumed that it was his mother.

It was risky, but at the same time it felt strangely familiar, as though the pathway had always been there, just waiting for her to be ready to take it.

She went back to her guest room, locked the door, and lay down on the bed. After a second she pulled the Soul Stone out of her pocket and put it aside. It _could_ be used to help her, but the whole feel of it felt wrong somehow. It didn’t want her, she hadn’t earned it, although how she knew that she could say.

Instead she relied solely on Yggdrasil which, given where she was going, was the wisest move she could have made.

She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as she called on her power. This time instead of watching the pathways that led from the physical world to the spiritual one, she pushed until she felt herself moving down them.

It took more than she’d ever done before, and the feeling was frightening. Yggdrasil gave great power, but it took from you as well. The physical changes that occurred when a god took their true form were involuntary. The power that they wielded was under their control by consent, not by right. Letting yourself embrace something that took apart pieces of who you were was not an easy task.

And yet, unseen by anyone at all, Daianya’s body shifted and became ethereal as her physical form and her soul merged into a single being. It shot away from Vanaheim, down the spirit pathways and to the gates of Fólkvangr.

She opened her eyes as she arrived. In her vision they did indeed appear as gates, high and silver, with metal vines woven up the rails.

On the other side of it was Norbleen, who looked at her in a mixture of confusion and fear.

“You, uh, you look different,” he said, gulping nervously.

Daianya reached out a hand and touched the gates. They sprang open and Norbleen stumbled out towards her.

“We don’t have much time,” Daianya said in a voice that echoed like a chorus of angels.

He took her hand cautiously, and Daianya pulled him back, back down the branches, back through the air, until they were both standing side by side in the bedroom of Dorgen, who was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling blankly, eyes red from weeping. 

“Dorgen!” Norbleen called out.

Dorgen shot up from his bed so fast he almost stumbled to the floor. He stared in shock at the sight of his brother’s soul standing before him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, “I didn’t mean it, I swear! I’m going to tell Father it was me. He’s going to kill whoever the guard is that owns the sword, and I can’t let that happen, I can’t let an innocent man die. I’m sorry!”

Norbleen’s face softened and he reached out a hand as though to pull his brother into a hug, but his hand passed through Dorgen’s cheek instead of making contact.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. The Titan took over everyone, and everyone is in pain because of the actions he forced them to take,” he said. “Listen to me, Brother, you can’t tell Father, you can’t tell anyone, ever, because it might get back to him. You and I both know that he’s not a very good king. He’s impulsive and judgemental, and he won’t make the kind of changes that Vanaheim needs to thrive into the future, but you Dorgen, you will. You’re the Crown Prince now, you’re clever and companionate and one day you will be wise because you won’t be able to help it.”

“You’re the Crown Prince,” Dorgen said in a small voice as his tears began to flow again. “It was supposed to be you.”

“Turns out it wasn’t,” Norbleen said with a sad smile. “Don’t ever let anything think you can’t do this, Dorgen. You have everything you need to be a great king, and one day, a very long time from now, I will sit and listen to all the things you did to make our realm truly great.”

“But the guard,” Dorgen said.

“Go to the head of the guards, a man named Streongyr, tell him you saw a civilian with brown hair pick up the sword and kill me. There’re fifty million people in Vanaheim and half of them have brown hair. He’s an honourable man who will already be looking for a way to save his man. He will protect the owner of the sword, especially with your testimony to support him. Go now and make sure that he knows what you saw.”

“Dorgen nodded, tears still running down his face. “I don’t want to be the king,” he said.

“I know, but you have a duty now, and I know that you will be one of the best kings Vanaheim has ever seen,” Norbleen said. 

He turned to look at Daianya, who was starting to shake badly from the effort of keeping him there. 

“I need to go, don’t I?” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I can’t…”

“Haewkyr will have to understand,” he said sadly, “But listen to me, the only regret I’ve ever had about Haewkyr and me was that I didn’t meet him sooner, you understand me?”

She nodded, the pressure in her head was starting to make it feel as though it would explode.

Norbleen turned back to Dorgen. “Take care of our realm,” he said with a smile. “Love you, little brother.”

Daianya lost control and his soul was pulled back to Fólkvangr like it was tied to an elastic band. Daianya collapsed in exhaustion, gasping for air as her soul and body once again became two separate entities bound by life. Dorgen rushed forwards and caught her, helping her to a nearby chair.

“You brought him back,” he said.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” she said.

He gave her a hug. “Thank you,” he said in her ear. “Thank you.”


	37. Her Mother's Daughter

Nal sat on the throne of Asgard and tried not to look bored. Until King Bor got back from Vanaheim she was still in charge, but with the attack over and the Bifrost closed there was nothing else for Asgard, and thus her, to do. 

The Kronan attack had been repelled as well, and so she sat waiting for news alongside Commander Lomax, and of course, Lord Elbin.

She really wished he’d go away instead of hovering smugly around. The ice that she’d grown across his mouth had left a red mark which he had taken the time to photograph while making sure she could see him. He was also talking _just_ loudly enough for her to hear about her threat of cannibalism. Nal almost wished she’d just done it. The sight of him screaming for mercy as she crunched him between her teeth was more appealing than it had any right to be.

A faint dinging sound got her attention. It was a discrete alarm on the arm of the throne. Someone had accessed the weapons’ vault without permission.

Nal glanced up at the people in the room. She didn’t trust any of them, and besides, it was probably a false alarm, sometimes the guards forgot to enter their code, or entered them incorrectly. The outer guards would cancel the alarm in a moment if that was the case.

It didn’t stop. Nal frowned and made her mind up.

“Where are you going?” Commander Lomax asked as she rose and began walking out of the Great Hall.

“I don’t have to tell you,” Nal said.

“I am required to provide you with a guard, so yes you do, your Grace,” he countered.

Nal raised an eyebrow. “In the words of my illustrious and well respected grandfather, I’m off to take a piss, now who would you like to accompany me?” she asked.

“Vulgar,” Lord Elbin commented quietly.

“I’ll tell him you said he was vulgar Lord Elbin, thank you,” Nal said, walking out.

Despite what she’d just said she was supposed to have two guards to at least accompany her to the door of the facilities, and so she wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see them start following her a moment later. She ignored them, and headed downstairs to the lower levels of the palace.

“Your Grace, your Grace, this isn’t the way – ”

“Just follow,” Nal snapped. She went down the last flight of stairs to the weapons’ vault and saw the outer guards on duty. No alarms were going off down here.

Suspicious, Nal walked past them, ignoring the way they straightened up as they caught sight of her, and pressed her hand to the release.

The weapons’ vault was dimly lit and quiet inside. It reminded her of her grandmother’s rooms back when Bestla was alive and Nal used to come and visit to hear her stories. Bestla would have been a great source of strength over the past few months, and Nal had to suddenly bite back a sudden feeling of grief.

It never really left you. You could move past it, you could go on and grow stronger, but every so often grief would visit, and you never got to decide when.

Her thoughts of loss evaporated immediately at the sight of the inner guards lying dead on the floor. The two who had accompanied her instantly went on the alert, one of them tried to push her back towards the door. Nal hissed at him and he leapt back in fear.

There was only one prize in the vault that anyone really wanted, and that was the Tesseract. Nal walked down the vault length on full alert, waiting for an attack to spring out of the dim light.

Why did Bor even insist on making it so hard to see down here? She thought to herself in annoyance. It gave off an impressive atmosphere but it was terrible in terms of practicality.

She reached the plinth on which the Tesseract stood and saw it was still there, and behind it, looking sheepish, was Scyth.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pick it up?” he asked her, shrugging awkwardly as he put his hand through the Tesseract. It wobbled as he did so before returning to look as solid as ever.

Loki. Some things just had his mark on them, and taking the Tesseract and replacing it with an illusion was just the sort of thing he’d do. The alarm spell must not be linked to the regular ones either, which was why the outer guards had no idea.

The two guards with her immediately grabbed him on either side. He sighed heavily, but did not look concerned.

“So you lied to me,” Nal said, “About everything.”

“I really take a job as a gardener,” he said. “I needed the cover story for why I was always around, I was hoping you’d let me in to the private areas of the palace eventually, and when you all rushed inside today in a rush no one checked that I was right behind them. Bit of an oversight, that.”

Nal nodded. She was hurt, badly so, betrayal always hurt. But she was also a Princess of Asgard, and a Jotun woman, and neither of those were to be disrespected in such a manner, not by anyone, so mostly what she was, was angry.

“I think you should let me go,” Scyth said.

“Why?” Nal asked.

“Because, trials and truth spells are such _messy_ things,” he said, smirking.

Nal tilted her head in thought. “That they are,” she said, and stepped forwards. She tapped him lightly on the chest. “That. They. Are.”

She turned and walked away as he began to struggle for breath. His eyes went wide and he tumbled to the floor as his lips turned blue from the sudden cold.

When he hit the floor, his body made, not the dull thump of flesh, but the hard ‘thunk’ of frozen meat on a butchers block. His entire chest had frozen solid, and the rest of his body was not far behind it.

“Clean that up,” Nal called out over her shoulder as she walked out.

****

King Dimcken, or rather his wife, called an emergency meeting of nobles. It had been four hours since the attack had ended and the worst of the fires were out, although the smaller ones were still being tackled and a few of the more damaged buildings were closed off due to the threat of collapse. Those affected had not remained in the main plaza, some had run through the surrounding streets and hacked wildly at anyone they found. The number of dead was estimated to be in the thousands, and the number of injured and displaced ten times greater.

Frigga was surprised to see her mother already released from the healers’ rooms. Lady Wearveil was weak and in pain, but being the best friend of the Queen had its advantages and excellent health care was one of them.

Frigga helped her dress in a light gown that wouldn’t aggravate her damaged and scarred skin. Her hair was gone and likely not to return through the thick scar tissue, but Frigga followed her directions and tied a scarf of wispy blue fabric carefully over her mother’s head, trying the whole time to hold back tears at the severity of the damage.

Frigga herself wore a gown of dark maroon, not quite a mourning colour, it didn’t seem right when she had not lost any family herself, and the official mourning of Norbleen had not yet been announced, but it was a sombre colour nonetheless and it felt appropriate. She’d done her hair up, twisting it into a braid and pinning it behind her head to cover the patch which had been burnt away during her mother’s rescue. It made her look older and wiser, a girl transformed into a woman.

“Where’s Haewkyr?” Lady Wearveil asked in a voice that croaked and cracked just above a whisper. That too might be permanent; it was too early to tell.

“He’s in his room,” Frigga said, struggling not to wince at the thought of her brother’s secret pain.

Lady Wearveil rose on wobbly legs and made her way to the door. “We have to call him,” she said, “It’ll start soon and he has to be there… he’s a Lord… he has a duty.”

She started coughing, and Frigga held her until she managed to stop.

“Mother, please, let Haewkyr be, and you should be resting too, I can represent the family,” she said.

Lady Wearveil shook her head as best she could. “He has a duty,” she repeated and shuffled to his door.

Haewkyr didn’t open to her knock, and after a moment she turned the handle and let herself in. Frigga stood awkwardly in the doorway as Lady Wearveil shuffled across the carpet to where Haewkyr lay on his bed, still dressed in blood splattered clothes, staring at nothing.

“They’ve called a meeting,” Lady Wearveil said, sitting down on the edge of his bed and reaching out a hand to gently stroke his hair away from his forehead. “I know you have lost a good friend, but you are a Lord, you have a duty to be there.”

“I loved him,” Haewkyr said, “And he loved me, and we were going to make so many changes, we were going to make Vanaheim great.”

Frigga held her breath as her mother’s hand paused for just a heartbeat. No one knew of Norbleen and Haekwyr’s love, no one but Frigga who saw things more easily than most people and, she suspected, Princess Daianya who had a way of doing the same thing.

Lady Wearveil’s hand began moving again, stroking his forehead the way she had Frigga’s when she’d been a little girl, at night after her stepfather had fallen into a drunken sleep and it was safe to be kind.

“My poor boy, I’m so sorry,” Lady Wearveil said.

Haewkyr’s eyes filled with tears and he turned to look at her. “I don’t want to do anything ever again,” he said. “I want to follow him.”

“I know,” Lady Wearveil said, “I know.”

“No you don’t,” Haewkyr said. “We had our whole future planned. We were going to use my lands to test our ideas and when he became king we were going to expand them to the whole realm. It’s all gone, it’s all dust, all his dreams and ideas, all gone in a moment. I don’t want to live in a Vanaheim that he didn’t plan. I don’t want to live without him. How do I live without him?”

Tears began to fall down Frigga’s cheeks as she watched, helpless to stop her brother’s pain.

“I know,” Lady Wearveil said, “Because that’s how I felt about your father.”

Frigga blinked in surprise; an objection almost on her lips. The moment he had died Lady Wearveil had only ever cursed her husband.

After she’d screamed.

“I loved him more than anything,” Lady Wearveil croaked slowly. “He was reckless, and impulsive, and he left to go to battle because it was such a big part of him I don’t think he could help it, and the night he died I stood on the balcony of the manor and looked down and wanted so badly to go through with it and step off. But I had you inside of me, and Frigga to take care of, so I walked back down and didn’t look back. I loved him so much I had to hate him to get through it, I had to curse his name because that was the only way I could say it without crying. But I loved him, and I will never stop wishing he was back beside me.”

Haewkyr looked up at her, a grown man with the eyes of a child. “You never said.”

“I couldn’t,” Lady Wearveil said, and Frigga realised that she was crying. “I couldn’t.”

Haewkyr started crying again. “I just want him back,” he sobbed.

“The depth of grief we feel is a direct result of how depth of love we have,” Lady Wearveil said softly. “Tell me, my boy, would you suffer through this grief if it let you see him again?”

“Yes,” Haewkyr said, “I’d suffer forever for a second more with him.”

“That is the way it is for love, and it is Yggdrasil’s own cruelty that we are forced to experience things in quite the wrong order,” Lady Wearveil said. “But one day we will be reunited in Yggdrasil’s branches, safe and secure, and until then you must go on.”

“How?” Haewkyr asked her, pleaded.

“Enact those plans you had. You believe in them, you believed in him and his vision, make it happen to honour him,” Lady Wearveil said. “And when young Dorgen take the throne you show him what his brother’s plans could achieve. He’s a sensible boy who has been thrust into a position he never thought he’d take. That’s what keeps you going through the pain, protecting what they loved the most.” She turned and glanced up at Frigga, “Even if you don’t always know the best way to do that,” she added softly.

On the bed, Haewkyr sucked in a huge breath and pushed himself up. He headed to his bathroom to clean up without looking back. And Frigga stood in the doorway with tears in her eyes, but she honestly couldn’t say who she was crying for, her brother, her mother, or herself.

****

Dorgen helped Daianya return to her room. She had a headache and wanted badly to shower and sleep, but first she had to deal with the Soul Stone, which was beginning to annoy her.

She gave a wave to the Valkyrie who were standing guard over her door and tried not to look amused at their reaction at seeing her coming in instead of out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you behind,” she said as she reentered.

_Anima? Can you meet me in my room?_ She asked.

Anima appeared a moment later. “I’m glad you asked, Father, King Bor and Loki are all in mine and they won’t stop snipping at one another,” she said as Daianya sank into a chair.

“I need you to get rid of this,” Daianya said, holding up the Soul Stone. “It doesn’t want to be used and it’s getting hostile about it.”

“It has thoughts? That’s fascinating,” Anima said, taking it gently and holding it with magic. “Maybe its nature gives it a form of sentience? I know the Aether’s nature drove it to create and recreate chaos at all times, and frankly if the Space Stone weren’t imprisoned in the Tesseract I suspect it might just start moving about on its own.”

Daianya grabbed a towel and headed toward her bathroom. “I don’t really care about any of that,” she said. “I just want it gone. My powers and its are very closely aligned and I don’t think it likes that very much.”

“These stones are supposed to have been created in the moment the Universe began,” Anima said, “Although admittedly that’s what the Collector told me, he might be wrong. But if he isn’t then all things must in some way stem from them or be influenced by them as they formed. Maybe it doesn’t like you because Yggdrasil can compete with it.”

“Can it?” Daianya asked, curious in spite of herself.

“Yggdrasil is still a creature of the universe and it’s not indestructible, I imagine if all the stones were used together then it wouldn’t stand a chance, but one on one? Yggdrasil can hold its own,” Anima said. “That’s what happened with Father and the Power Primordial, same kind of energy. His physical form has suffered, but Yggdrasil didn’t get so much as a scratch. It’s up there with the big players in terms of raw power. If this thing is sentient in some way then it probably feels threatened. I’ll find a nice, quiet place to hide it away and that’ll make it feel much better.”

Daianya nodded and headed off to shower.

“They’ve called a meeting of all the nobles to discuss Vanaheim’s reaction to the attack. We’re permitted to be there as well, as representatives of Asgard,” Anima said. “The King wants us all to be there.”

“Fine,” Daianya said before she shut the door, “Just do me a favour and poke me if I fall asleep.”

Alone at last and under the hot water, Daianya finally allowed herself to cry. Norbleen had been a friend of many years, albeit by letter, and he’d been so earnest and confident in his future as a king. He had had so many plans and the will to pull them off. Instead his body was lying cold and awaiting burial, and the realm would have to move on without him.

You’d think being the Goddess of Souls would make death easier, after all it wasn’t the end, she knew that with a certainty that evaded many, but death still carried a finality that weighted heavily on her shoulders. Death meant that there was no more time to grow, no more time to change or learn, or to make new plans. The spirit world was where everything you once knew could be left behind and forgotten if you chose to, perhaps Haewkyr and Norbleen would indeed be reunited, or perhaps Haewkyr would move on, find new love, arrive at Fólkvangr’s gates a different man from when Norbleen left him, and they would have to deal with that.

When did it all get so complicated? Daianya thought as she scrubbed the blood and sweat out of her hair. When did we turn into adults who deal with things instead of children with our whole lives ahead of us?

****

The Great Hall was in chaos. Frigga helped her mother to a seat and looked around her in alarm. Half the nobles were yelling at one another, the other half were sitting with pale faces and shocked expressions not unlike Haewkyr, who took a seat on their mother’s left but otherwise seemed to struggle to really be present.

The newly made Lord Kinndyr was sitting beside his own mother, who was crying openly. He looked ill and held the official seal of his family in his hands without looking at it. His father’s body had been found, stabbed over fifty times by the frenzied crowd.

King Dimcken was on his throne staring at nothing. Queen Boaldia was trying to maintain order and losing, and Dorgen was seated beside her, looking small and lost in Norbleen’s usual seat. Frigga thought that was a cruelty, they should have waited before removing Dorgen’s chair and leaving him no option but to sit on his father’s right side instead of his mother’s left.

The Asgardians were also present, sitting together in their own corner, surrounded by the group of Valkyrie who had come through the Bifrost and were now acting as an unofficial guard. They were watching the crowd of ever growing hostile and panicking nobles with sharp eyes. King Bor was staring with undisguised contempt at the Vanir court, Prince Odin looked as though he wanted to pass out, as did Princess Daianya. Princess Anima was watching everything with a worried look on her face.

“Listen to me! Listen! We need to make plans!” Queen Boaldia was shouting.

“We need an investigation!” screamed a Lord to the sound of cheers.

“Fires are still burning in the city! We need to put them out before we can investigate!”

“Whoever killed Norbleen needs to pay!”

“Whoever killed Norbleen was under a spell, idiot.”

“You dare insult my honour?!”

“What honour?”

Frigga instinctively looked across at her mother, who at any other time would have already stepped in and calmed the crowd with a magic that only she seemed to possess. To her complete lack of surprise and faint horror, Lady Wearveil was indeed trying to rise and speak, but her injuries made it impossible, and her voice was too faint.

Frigga turned and looked back at the crowd. There was going to be another riot soon if this was allowed to continue, and this time the Asgardians wouldn’t bother saving anyone, they’d just leave them to it, probably with a feeling of disgust.

When she’d heard her mother’s scream back in the plaza, all her thoughts of caution and fear had flown away like a flock of birds. Bravery in battle to the point of foolishness had been, sadly, a defining trait of her father, and perhaps not one she ought to emulate all the time. He’d be hopeless in a situation like this.

Frigga looked at her mother again, and suddenly felt angry. How dare these children squabble when there was work to be done? How dare they throw around blame instead of helping? Who the hell did they think they were?

She didn’t even mean to do it, but all of a sudden she was rising from her chair, head back, shoulders straight, face set like iron. If she could channel her father in the middle of _his_ type of battlefield, then she could channel her mother in the middle of hers.

Those nearest to her caught sight of her movement and fell silent. Frigga made eye contact with each and every one of them.

There was power in grace. There was power in confidence. There was power in being the only adult in the room.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Frigga said, and if her voice was carried a little louder and further by magic then maybe that wasn’t quite her mother, but it was definitely all hers. “We have a _duty_. We are Vanaheim’s ruling class. It is us who watch over the people. They look to us! They need our guidance! Lady Marlia, you organised the entire celebration’s worth of material for decorations, can you not organise the bandages that the healers need? Lord Fianor, you have thirty hotels in the city, the visitors are heading home as fast as they can, can you not turn the empty rooms into emergency accommodation to keep _our people_ safe and sheltered? We have a duty, and we must fulfil it, now who can help and how? Our people need to be fed, who can feed them? They need their dead found and identified, who can organise manpower? Where can we store the bodies of the unfortunate victims of this attack until they can be claimed and buried? _Who will do their duty?”_

Even King Dimcken had looked up from his musings by the time she had finished speaking. The hall was silent, all arguments forgotten.

“I need to contact my secretaries and find out which hospitals need materials, the weavers on my lands have undyed cloth that they work from, we need to transport it to the city as quickly as possible,” Lady Marlia said into the silence.

“I can help with that, my carters had just brought the latest shipment of eggs to the city yesterday and are sitting empty waiting to go back, I’ll divert them to you instead to pick up supplies,” Lord Argityr said.

“My fathers… my lands have a surplus of wheat this year,” Lord Kinndyr said in a croaky voice, “I’ll write to them to have it ground to flour and sent to the bakers still standing in the city, we can build food stations until the people’s supply is stable again.”

“Soup is the best thing for that, especially with bread, I’ll send up the vegetables from the last harvest,” said Lord Farron.

“I’ll find out who’s been put out of work and see if they can work in the food stations,” said Lord Moralt, “I’ll take over their payment until things calm down, I have surplus this year and I can spare it.”

****

“Who is that?” Odin asked, leaning over to murmur in Loki’s ear without taking his eyes off Frigga.

“That, my brother, is a castle in the west of Vanaheim which I shall win from Lord Mollet the moment you propose,” Loki said. “Her name is Frigga and she is _delightful_.”

****

It took less than an hour for things to get organised and this first instructions to leave the room. Frigga walked among the nobles as they talked, encouraging and soothing them in their own grief in equal parts. She watched in a sort of amazement as any conflicts or issues with their plans fell on her to resolve. Nobles twice her age turned their eyes to her as though her word was somehow worth more than that of a king’s.

Her mother’s magic, if you could call that which contained no seidr ‘magic’, which she had dismissed because she’d never really understood it. Amora had seen it though, and for the first time, so did Frigga. 

When the majority of the details had been settled and the nobles focussed on their new direction, Frigga returned to where her mother and brother sat.

“Frig, dear sister, you’ve grown up,” Haewkyr said with just a faint trace of his old humour, “And you didn’t tell me.”

Frigga sat down and took her mother’s hand. “I think we can go now that they’ve figured out what to do,” she said, “And you need to rest.”

Lady Wearveil squeezed her hand as best she could. Frigga was shocked to see new tears in her eyes. 

“I’m so proud of you,” her mother said, “Every part of you.”


	38. Home Again

Loki was helping Odin to leave the Vanir hall and return to the guest rooms in preparation to return to Asgard. Odin was not feeling very well at all. He desperately wanted to sleep but people kept waking him up and making him concentrate. 

“Sar Frigga! I am impressed by how well you handled yourself in there,” Loki said, making Odin look up.

Frigga was helping her mother walk back to their rooms, and she paused at Loki’s words and gave him a smile.

“I see you found who you were looking for,” she said.

“May I present Odin, son of Bor, Crown Prince of Asgard,” Loki said, looking sideways at where Odin stood, swaying slightly. “You’re not seeing him at his best,” he added.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Odin said, his vision was starting to go blurry.

“He’s normally a lot less sweaty,” Loki said.

“Are you alright, your Grace?” Frigga asked as Odin’s vision started to turn dark.

“He’s normally a lot more talkative,” Loki said as Odin began to fall backwards, having finally lost the fight against sleep.

“Guards! Guards, fetch a healer!” Frigga called out somewhere on the edge of his hearing.

“He’s normally a lot more upright too,” Loki added just before Odin lost consciousness.

****

Daianya walked through the Bifrost and kept going, not even bothering to look back at where her father was being carried on a stretcher by the Valkyrie. She was very tired, and felt dull and stupid after calling on the might of Yggdrasil. She still wasn’t sure that it had been the right thing to do, although Dorgen was no longer intent on committing suicide by father, so that was a positive.

Mostly she just felt old.

An arm curled around her shoulders and she looked across into Anima’s sympathetic eyes. “Are you alright? I know he was a friend,” she said.

“He was, and I will be, at least I know he’s out there,” Daianya said, “But it feels so horribly final, I can talk to him if I want to, but at what cost? I feel as though I left some of myself on Yggdrasil’s branches.”

“I always feel as though I’m not really here afterwards,” Anima said. “Like I could explode and drift away in all different directions.”

“Maybe that’s true,” Daianya said, “Maybe the more we call on Yggdrasil the more of us it takes back. I mean, look at Father.”

Anima turned her head and looked at where Odin lay sleeping, surrounded by a golden glow of his own making. “He shouldn’t have been strong enough to do what he did, and his body is badly… worn? I mean not physically, spiritually. His magic is repairing what it can, and in the meantime he’s as vulnerable as a mortal.”

“Will he be alright?” Daianya asked.

“I think so? In time. He needs a lot of rest though,” Anima said. 

****

Odin was taken to the healer’s rooms immediately and laid in a private room. There was little anyone could do for him other than monitor his condition, the healing he was undergoing was beyond the medical knowledge of Asgard’s healers.

Bor, Hela, Daianya, Anima and Loki sat around his bedside, as helpless as the healers but uncomfortable with leaving him alone.

“Do you think he can hear us?” Loki asked, peering over Odin’s sleeping form.

“Don’t crowd him,” Bor grunted as the door opened and Nal walked into the room.

“Your Grace,” she said to Bor and handed him a sheaf of papers.

“What’s this?” Bor asked.

“My report; a number of things occurred here on Asgard while you were absent and I’ve documented them for you,” Nal said, taking a seat next to Daianya.

Bor glanced down at the papers. After a few minutes he looked up again with raised eyebrows. “The Tesseract is a fake?” he asked.

Nal turned to look questioningly at Loki.

“Why do you suspect me?” Loki asked.

“I had the security mages look into the alarm that was set up on the fake Tesseract, it wasn’t a part of the usual system and their analysis showed that it was your magic, which they are very familiar with after all the pranks you pulled,” Nal said.

“Oh,” Loki said, not looking the slightest bit embarrassed, “That’s fair. I didn’t have time to link it into the main system before I got kicked out of the weapons’ vault.”

“You stole the Tesseract?” Bor said.

“Borrowed,” Loki corrected, “Until such time as we know the vault is safe again. Clearly that time has not yet occurred because someone actually got in there.”

“Scyth,” Nal said, “Scyth got in there.”

Loki looked at her with sympathy. “I’ll gut him if you want me to,” he offered.

“He’s already dead,” Nal said. “Slipped and fell into some ice.”

Over the next few hours, Daianya, Anima and Loki caught Bor, Hela and Nal up on what had happened on Sakaar, including Odin’s impressive fight against the Grand Master.

“He channelled the power back at him?” Bor exclaimed. “My son, my powerful son. No god has ever done such a thing before, this… this… Odinforce that he used, that called on such power!”

“Odinforce?” Loki said incredulously, “That’s lame.”

Bor just growled in annoyance.

“Is he Odinsleeping right now then?” Loki continued. “Is that the Odinpillow?”

“Shut up,” Bor snapped.

“Those Odinblankets look comfy,” Loki said.

“I will lock you in the cells,” Bor said.

“I’m going to take a Lokinap in a minute,” Loki said, “It’s been a long day.”

Bor turned his back on Loki and sat down in a chair facing the window.

****

Odin opened his eyes after a full day of sleep. He felt like himself again, which was a relief, but he also felt a strange… trickle inside of himself that felt an awful lot like his connection to the Power Primordial wasn’t fully closed, and might never be again. He could feel the power of Yggdrasil holding it off and keeping it from surging back and killing him, but he knew he’d be paying the price for all long time, maybe even the rest of his life.

“Hey! It’s the Odinwake,” Loki said from somewhere to his right.

“Please stop antagonising my father,” Odin said.

“You heard us while you were sleeping?” Anima asked.

“After a while, yes, I don’t think it was a real sleep,” Odin said.

“No, it was an _ODINsleep,_ ” Loki said. Odin shot him a look but only received a cheerful grin in return. “Glad you’re alright,” Loki added.

“Yes,” Daianya added as Nal nodded. Hela just stared, she looked bored.

“Son,” Bor said, leaning over him.

“I’m fine,” Odin said, ignoring the faint tugging feeling inside of him.

“I’m glad to hear it, General Hymir has returned from his mission and he has important news,” Bor said, already back to business. Odin pushed himself up. “I’ve told him to come here,” Bor added, “He’ll be here soon.”

General Hymir knocked on the door of the healer’s chambers and stepped inside when Anima opened it. He gave her a polite bow and walked over to where Bor stood at Odin’s bedside.

“General, did you find out who has taken out the contract for the Tesseract?” Bor asked.

General Hymir nodded. “I have disturbing news, your Majesty, your Grace,” he said to Bor and Odin in turn. “The contract was taken out by Brokkr of Nidavellir, on behalf of Thanos the Titan.”

Everyone in the room exchanged worried and knowing glances. 

“While you were gone, General, Thanos attacked Vanaheim,” Bor said. “He used some kind of spell. Prince Norbleen is dead.”

General Hymir’s mouth fell open in shock. “I’d met him, he was a fine young man.”

“Thanos used the Mind Stone,” Daianya said and Anima nodded in agreement, “One of the Infinity Stones. He was maintaining extreme control by using some kind of device in the form of a gauntlet.”

“This gauntlet,” Loki said, holding up his hand. There was a shimmer in the air and the gauntlet appeared in front of them.

“You have it?” Bor snapped, “You didn’t say anything!”

“I didn’t want the Vanir General to claim it,” Loki said, “At least not before I had a chance to look it over properly.”

“Thanos got away with the stone, but he was injured,” Daianya said.

“So Brokkr is a traitor to the nine realms,” Bor said. “We’ll send people out to search for him and have him brought back to Asgard to face justice.”

“It might be better to end him to Vanaheim, after all they have suffered the most from the actions of Thanos,” Odin said.

“Uh, Brother, King,” Loki said, looking at the gauntlet, “We have bigger problems.”

“What?” Bor asked, turning to him.

“This gauntlet was made by Eitri,” Loki said. “Thanos was backed by the king of Nidavellir himself.”

“Are you sure?” Odin asked as Daianya frowned and Anima covered her mouth in shock.

“No one else on Nidavellir has this kind of skill, I saw it on full display when he made Gungnir and Mjolnir,” Loki said seriously. “But if there’s any doubt at all, his maker’s mark is right here on the inside of the sleeve.”

Bor snatched the gauntlet from Loki’s hands and examined it himself. His face turned red with rage.

“Traitors,” he spat. “Scum. Betrayers of the nine realms. Vanaheim has been ravaged by their actions! They _fought_ the Titans alongside us!”

“Yes they did,” Odin said quietly, “There must be an explanation, surely?”

“Hela killed Sindri,” Nal said quietly. “This may well be revenge.”

“By attacking Vanaheim?” Odin said.

“While you and two of your children were there?” Nal countered, “And were attacked first in a diversion that brought King Bor and Hela to Vanaheim as well? And then there was the Kronan attack at the same time. This whole thing seems more and more coordinated.”

“I really thought Eitri had more sense that this,” Odin said.

“That’s his mark, he’s as guilty as his brother,” Bor snapped. “General! We declare war immediately, I will write to King Dimcken and ask him to join us, no doubt there are those in Vanaheim who wish to avenge their prince.” He turned to look at each of them in the room. “Tell no one else until it’s been officially declared. I don’t want him having advanced warning.”

He strode out of the room with General Hymir on his heels.

Anima stood up. “I’m going to go and rest,” she said, “Now that I know Father is alright.”

“You should all go,” Odin said. “Things are about to get complicated and difficult. You need to be prepared as best you can.”

Daianya walked out without looking back. Nal gave Odin a nod and followed. Only Loki remained behind.

“Another war,” he said. “I was born in the middle of a war, you know, and I’ve fought in all kinds of skirmishes since.”

Odin sighed. “There’s no denying that this is Eitri’s work, I just never thought he’d try something like this,” he said.

“Everyone has their breaking point,” Loki said. “His must have been the loss of his brother. Hela’s doing.”

“Loki,” Odin said warningly.

“She’ll excel at war,” Loki said. “But she’ll never be any good at peace. The one you really want to follow you is Nal, Daianya in a pinch, but Nal’s better at it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Odin said. 

“As you wish,” Loki said, walking to the door. “But I’m right and you know it.”

****

Daianya didn’t go to her room. Instead she headed straight for the barracks with only one goal in her mind.

The Valkyrie barracks consisted of seven long buildings with doors at each end and halfway down on either side. Inside of each building was divided up into sleeping rooms with six beds in each and several sitting and relaxing areas dotted down the length. Daianya went straight to the area normally occupied by her friends.

Tarah was sitting with Norah and Tiree, and looked up and gasped when Daianya walked in.

“You’re alright!” she exclaimed.

“Can I talk to you?” Daianya asked.

Norah grabbed Tiree and hustled her bodily out of the area almost as fast as Sleipnir could run. Daianya rolled her eyes as Tarah stood up.

“Look,” Tarah said. “I need to tell you something.”

“I love you,” Daianya said.

“I lo- what?” Tarah said.

“I love you, I have two sisters who know all my secrets and thoughts, but the only one I actually _want_ to know them is you,” Daianya said. “But… I’m so scared that it will be hard, and that being a Princess and having that side of my life will ruin things, because if I had the choice I’d be just a Valkyrie, as long as I could do it with you, but I can’t chose, this is who I am, this is all of me, and if you can take the chance on that then I’ll stand by your side every moment, because I want to spend all of my time with you.”

There was a pause as Tarah absorbed her speech.

“Okay,” she said after a moment.

“Okay?” Daianya repeated. 

Tarah nodded. “Okay, because I love you too, even when you’re being a princess.”

Daianya started to laugh. “I feel a little silly,” she confessed.

Tarah stepped forwards, also giggling and kissed her. Daianya wrapped her arms around her and kissed back. War was coming, there were no guarantees, but if the worst should come then she would be damned if she regretted waiting even a second more than she had to, to be by Tarah’s side.

“FINALLY!” Norah yelled from the door, before Tiree got a hand over her mouth and pulled her away, leaving them a few more minutes of privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this story is almost over. Once again I've got a few notes for those that like to read them, so the last 'chapter' will be three chapters long (last, epilogue and then notes). I'll put them all up at the same time when I get there, which may be the next update or if not that then the one after.


	39. War

The following day Bor called a feast, officially to celebrate Odin’s recovery, although those in the know knew that war was about to be officially declared. 

Daianya and Anima headed down early, encountering Loki at the base of the tower as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Nal’s still up there,” Anima said before he could ask.

“Right,” Loki said and stepped into the elevator, “I’ve been meaning to talk to her.”

“I know,” Anima said, giving him a knowing look as the doors closed on him.

“What do you know?” Daianya asked as they walked away.

“I only look twenty three, Sister, but I am growing wise in my advanced years,” Anima said.

“Look, something shiny,” Daianya said, making Anima’s head turn.

“Oh very funny,” Anima said as Daianya laughed. “Are you planning to move to the barracks?”

“Not yet, not officially,” Daianya said, “Although I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Keep your room up there for when you need privacy, the barracks aren’t known for having a lot of personal space,” Anima advised.

“That’s only the barracks for single women, couples can apply for a private room,” Daianya said.

“How long do you have to be together to be together to be a couple?” Anima asked.

“Long enough to tell Father,” Daianya said, “So about three more hours.”

“Tonight? With all that’s going on?” Anima asked.

Daianya nodded firmly. “Especially with all that’s going on,” she said firmly. “Right now on Vanaheim, Haewkyr is alone every night with only his memories to comfort him, not even a keepsake because as far as any of Norbleen’s family know he isn’t entitled to one. I don’t think even their closest friends knew that he and Norbleen were together, and now it’s a secret he’ll have to keep for the rest of his life. If something happens to me, I want Tarah to be known and acknowledged by my family, not left alone and thought of as no more than a good friend.”

“That will never happen,” Anima said, “For one thing, if anything happens to you then I’ll be doing something about it, and secondly, if she’s important to you then she’s important to us, even if Father or the King never know.”

“But they will,” Daianya said firmly. “I won’t hide who I love. I learnt a lot on Vanaheim, and I think that was the most important lesson.”

****

Loki reached the top of the tower and walked across the landing to Nal’s door. He knocked gently and called out. “It’s me, the God of Escorting People to Feasts They Don’t Want To Go To.”

The door opened and Nal looked at him in amusement. “How did you know I didn’t want to go?” She asked.

“The last time you were at a feast you destroyed the Great Hall,” Loki said, “Now, if that were me I’d be desperate to get back in there and loudly complain that they hadn’t finished the repairs yet, but you strike me as a different personality.”

Nal rolled her eyes and let him into the room. She was dressed for the feast with the exception of her shoes, which she made no move to put on. Instead she sat down on the edge of her bed and looked up at Loki.

“Are you thinking about Scyth?” Loki asked her.

Nal shook her head. “He was fool, and an idiot, and a liar,” she said, “I’m not wasting time on someone like that.”

Loki cautiously sat down next to her. “If it makes you feel any better, he fooled me too.”

“No he didn’t, you hated him,” Nal said.

“Yes, but not because he was a thief trying to sneak into the weapons vault, I just thought he was a prick,” Loki said.

The corner of Nal’s mouth turned up. “He wasn’t though, not on the outside. He was very careful never to let the mask fall,” she said.

“You killed him?” Loki confirmed.

“Oh yes,” Nal said, “And now the guards are even more afraid of me than they were after the Great Hall incident.”

“That’s their problem,” Loki said.

“And mine,” Nal said. “I was so angry I could have frozen the whole room, and I think they knew it.”

“But you didn’t, and they know that too,” Loki said.

“No one seems bothered that I killed him without a trial, that I just… ended him,” Nal said. “Even my own father didn’t say a word when he found out what happened.”

“To be fair, he was standing in the middle of the weapon’s vault and then admitted his guilt,” Loki said. “You just skipped all the paperwork.”

“That’s the kind of thing Hela does,” Nal said, “And the older I get the more I am convinced that she really is an irredeemable monster.”

“I agree,” Loki said, then caught her look. “What? I still care about her, I’m just not blind, or stupid, or Odin.”

“So what does that make me?” Nal asked him.

“Kind,” Loki said.

Nal scoffed and went to rise. “I’m not kind,” she said. “I’m cold, and harsh, and, and, I don’t know!”

“You can be, but you are also kind,” Loki said. “It’s not a weakness, although it’s often mistaken for one. Kindness is the reason you bothered to speak to a junior lawn gardener at all. Kindness is the way you are always polite to the servants, even the ones you know would rather be anywhere than serving you. Kindness is in your nature, as much as the cold, maybe even more so.”

“Kindness just gets you exploited,” Nal said. “Kindness is the reason a thief got into the weapon’s vault at all, and if you hadn’t been cleverer than the King then Scyth would have made off with the Tesseract before anyone even realised he’d gotten into the palace at all, and it would have been my fault. There’s a reason that I left our supposed friendship in my report. The King would have blamed me for my _kindness_.”

“That’s because he’s as big of a fool as Scyth was,” Loki said, getting to his feet and stepping closer to her. He looked down into her eyes, green to red. “Listen to me, my Princess, only fools think kindness is a weakness to be exploited. Those of us with actual wisdom know that kindness is a choice. This world, this universe, is a hard, harsh, _cold_ place, and those who fall victim to it end up hard, harsh, and cold as well. But those who have to strength to fight against it are those who bring warmth, and light, and love into a place that would otherwise tear us all apart. Those who choose to be kind are not naïve or stupid, they see the world for what it is and they choose to stand up and reject it. They choose to _make_ warmth, to _create_ light, to _share_ love. Those gardens out there don’t know you are cold, not when they’ve only ever felt your warmth. Your sisters would die for you when you know they wouldn’t for Hela. I’d go to the end of the universe just to make you smile, and I sure as shit wouldn’t do that for fucking _Bor_.”

Nal shook her head. “You can’t feel the way it calls me,” she said. “But other people do, that’s why they fear me.”

“The wrong people fear you,” Loki said. “Scyth and Bor, and those like them, _they_ should fear you. The harsh should fear the kind, but they are almost universally too stupid to do so.”

“Why would anyone fear the kind?” Nal asked.

“I told you, kindness is a choice, it’s a strength, an active resistance against our worst nature. An intelligent person would fear being the reason a kind person chooses to stop being kind,” Loki said.

Nal’s mind flashed back to the look of puzzlement and growing horror that had passed over Scyth’s face as she froze his heart in his chest. She looked thoughtful.

“Now, will you allow me to escort you to the feast?” Loki asked, “I have a promise to keep to my dear brother regarding a certain Lord Elbin and I do love having as big as audience as possible.”

Nal’s eyes flickered up to look at him. “Yes I think I will,” she said with a smile. “I could do with something to smile about.”

****

The Great Hall was capable of holding over three thousand people when fully packed. Approximately two thirds of those were nobles who automatically had a right to be there. The remaining third were usual warriors from the army who had recently been in honourable combat. In this case the men who had fought back the Kronan raid were now seated at the long benches at the far end of the hall. They were joined by the Valkyrie who had come to Vanaheim, and General Solveig, who was aware of the coming announcement but wanted to hear King Bor’s exact words for herself.

The loud chatter of the people dulled slightly when Nal walked into the room before picking up again just as quickly. She ignored it and made her way to the high table without catching anyone’s eye. Loki branched off from her and took his own seat at a nearby table, as she gave King Bor a small bow and slid into her chair.

The servers were running around carrying wine and ale back and forth. Soon the food would be served. Bor’s announcement would be made after everyone had eaten, as was custom for important, realm-changing matters.

One of the servers held his pitcher out into the cold spot in the centre of the hall for a few seconds and walked away with ice on metal. Nal’s mouth twitched at his casual practicality, in all other cases people avoided the spot as though it was cursed.

Maybe it was. 

Her mood darkened again. She still didn’t know what she was, Goddess? Monster? Or just a very talented Jotun? 

_It’s not worth wondering about, you know,_ Anima thought in her head. _Yggdrasil is strange and mysterious, and it clearly doesn’t like to talk._

 _I think it’s frightening,_ Daianya thought. _At the peak of my powers I wasn’t sure where I ended and Yggdrasil began._

 _Well yes,_ Anima thought, _When you channel the power of Yggdrasil, some of Yggdrasil channels itself back._

 _And that doesn’t bother you?_ Nal thought.

 _Yggdrasil, the Power Primordial, the Infinity Stones, they’re all on a level with one another, we are but Yggdrasil’s means of defending itself, same as the Stones needing someone to channel their power, or the Power Primordial just kind of sitting there until someone channels it. It doesn’t mean they can’t think for themselves,_ Anima thought. _Yggdrasil won’t harm you unless it wants to, in fact it may not truly be able to, not directly, if it wants you gone it might have to send someone to do that for it._

 _Are you saying that the reason any one of us might exist is because we were born to destroy someone else?_ Nal thought.

Anima shrugged. “I’m saying that Daianya and I only exist because Yggdrasil willed it, and it willed it at the moment that our mother died saving Asgard, and by extension a rather large and important piece of Yggdrasil. Yes, I think sometimes certain gods exist to protect Yggdrasil from _specific_ threats. I took the Soul Stone away as instructed, but first I had a chat with it. It had a particular destination in mind, and the reason it didn’t like Daianya was that she is Yggdrasil’s way of tapping into the same power. She could have destroyed it, if she wanted to.”

“What?” Daianya said in disbelief. “I’m not that strong.”

“Yggdrasil is, and while I doubt it could stand up to the power of all six stones, one or two? It’s already done that. The Reality Stone bent to my magic, the Soul Stone vibrates on your wavelength, the stones aren’t sentient the same way we are, but they aren’t completely inert either,” Anima said. “You could have done it, channelled Yggdrasil and blown it apart so that it could never reform again.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Daianya said.

“I wasn’t going to lock the Aether away forever either,” Anima said, “But then it threatened Yggdrasil.”

“Are we at war with them?” Nal asked.

“Not a war as we understand it, no. But they don’t want anything to do with one another,” Anima said. “The Tesseract isn’t exactly happy being locked in the vault either, it wants to move, but the King will never allow that in case it falls into the wrong hands.”

“So where did you leave the Soul Stone?” Daianya asked.

“Some planet; they had a temple there dedicated to it and didn’t seem surprised to see it turn up,” Anima said. “I just left it where they gestured and teleported out. It seemed happy to be there, like it was home.”

There was a slight disturbance a few tables down. Loki had stood up and done a handstand on one of the long benches directly in front of Lord Elbin. Without warning, Loki’s coat fell to the forces of gravity revealing the disturbing fact that he’d cut a large hole out of the seat of his pants and was now exposing both buttocks right in Lord Elbin’s face.

“And that’s why I think you suck,” Loki said, springing back upright with a smile.

“Your opinion is not one I treasure,” Lord Elbin said.

Loki grinned. “Truly? Ah but I had so much to say to you, the high lord with the higher opinion of low men and no opinion of glorious women.”

“You speak of women as though you aren’t half a one,” Lord Elbin said, “But there’s a horse out in the stables that says otherwise.”

There was a murmur of excitement from the crowd. People began gesturing to the servers to hurriedly fill up their glasses as they realised what was coming. Loki’s grin only widened as he launched into his opening attack.

“A Lord of might and dry of wit  
Or wits so dried? You silly git  
Who only knows, what goes on inside  
A head so broken, so twisted a mind  
Half of me is woman, so half of me is dirt  
Half of me is man, so that half hold worth  
Well the woman is chuckling, the man is too  
For all of me is laughing at you  
Such strange beliefs, made only to hurt  
Like the weakest of men, the worst pervert”

Lord Elbin stood up with narrowed eyes. For a second Nal thought he might abandon the feast and forfeit, but instead he came back with a flyting of his own.

“A foreign man, a Jotun born  
Comes to our hall and speaks with scorn  
But who is he to call me out  
A scoundrel and thief, a disgusting lout  
No honour in him, no titled pride  
No lands or gold, just nasty lies  
A laughing clown, a mocking bug  
All you are is arrogant and smug”

Loki grinned and did a cartwheel, showing off his bare behind.

“I am all you say and merrily so  
I am false, and true, and come from snow  
I lie with horses, I joke with kings  
I am soft and hard and all these things  
I am wicked and kind, and dark and light  
I am kind and mean, I am a delight!  
But you, my Lord, set so much store  
In castles, titles, when at your core  
You are a spineless, worthless tool  
You prey on the weak, the trustful, the fools  
You tell them things you know aren’t true  
You lie and cheat and smell bad too  
You make this world with rules you own  
Because deep down we know you can’t bone  
Yes that is the secret of all your fears  
You can’t get a woman with any number of beers  
You can’t keep her happy, you can’t make her moan  
You can’t make her scream, but only bemoan  
The day that she met you, the day that she tried  
To see what was truly, deeply inside  
For it turns out to be nothing, but bitterness and spite  
That so many women can get it all night  
You talk but it’s nothing, this terrible farce  
Give it up, Lord, and kiss my bare arse”

The crowd erupted into a roar of approval as everyone thrust their glasses of drink into the air, spilling most of the contents, before downing the rest Loki’s honour. There were some there who did not, and clearly believed that Lord Elbin ought to have won, or even just been given another chance, but the crowd was with Loki and so by the rules of flyting he was declared the winner.

Lord Elbin turned and walked out of the Great Hall with a look of fury on his face. He was so caught up in his anger that he accidently stepped into the cold spot and yelped and jumped sideways as it sank into his bones. The crowd roared with laughter and Nal gave him a mocking wave as he stormed off.

Bor leaned over to speak in his son’s ear. “You know, I can’t stand the Trickster, but there are times when he’s almost tolerable,” he said.

“He can be quite witty when he wants to be,” Odin said.

“Let’s not go that far,” Bor said.

**** 

They were in the middle of eating when Daianya turned to Odin. “Father?”

“Yes?” Odin said, turning to her.

“I have a girlfriend. Her name is Tarah and she’s a Valkyrie,” Daianya said.

Odin swallowed the piece of food in his mouth. “A girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Daianya said.

“When did this happen?” Odin asked.

“When did what happen?” Bor said from behind him.

“I have a girlfriend, your Majesty,” Daianya said. “She’s a Valkyrie.”

Bor nodded. “She any good at sword fighting?” he asked.

“Not bad, she’s a fantastic rider too,” Daianya said.

Bor nodded curtly. “She’ll do then, I don’t want any weaklings joining the high table one day.”

Daianya nodded and looked back at Odin. “Father?”

“So when I asked you about Prince Norbleen before you went to Vanaheim?” Odin asked.

“It was never going to happen,” Daianya said.

Odin nodded. “Okay, I want to meet her though.”

Daianya nodded. “I’ll invite her to the next feast, if I may. She can sit with the Valkyrie but I’ll introduce you.”

Odin nodded. “Good,” he said.

Daianya turned back to her food.

 _That went well,_ Anima thought.

 _I knew Father didn’t want you leaving Asgard, this’ll keep you here and get other offers of arranged marriages off your back,_ Nal added.

 _I don’t think this generation of royals are really trying for it,_ Daianya said. _A few basic attempts and one completely fake one, I think in terms of marriage we are in the clear, sisters._

Nal held up her wine glass. “Cheers to that,” she said as Bor stood up.

“Lords! Ladies! Men! Valkyrie!” he proclaimed loudly. “By now you all know of the terrible attack on Vanaheim. Well tonight I shall tell you who is responsible for such a horrendous and vile act.”

He held up the gauntlet for the crowd to see. “Thanos the Titan, using this gauntlet to channel a great power forced the people of Vanaheim to turn on one another with violence and anger. He escaped and is still out there!”

“We will track him down!” screamed a Lord from the crowd.

“We will tear him apart!” yelled a warrior from the far end of the hall, to the sound of cheers.

“We do not have to, for the Titan was an agent of another,” Bor continued. “The Titan was working with someone from the nine realms themselves.”

Silence fell over the hall. Men froze with their glasses halfway to their lips.

“General Hymir has discovered that the attempts on our weapons’ vault were organised by none other than Brokkr the Dwarf,” Bor said, his voice had lowered and become sinister, but still reached the furthest points of the room. “And this gauntlet, this _very_ gauntlet, was made by King Eitri of Nidavellir himself!”

“What!”

“No!”

“He can’t have!”

“He has betrayed the nine realms!” Bor yelled. “He and his brother are responsible for aiding the Titan and causing more than a thousand Vanir deaths. Innocent children died in the attack! Women and men, farmers, shopkeepers, not warriors. General Braaveen of Vanaheim has already begun preparations for war. King Dimcken has declared it as of this morning in retaliation for the murder of his son, Crown Prince Norbleen. We, as their allies, and as the guardians and protectors of the nine realms, we shall join them!”

The roar was loud enough to rattle the windows. 

Nal turned to her sisters. “So that’s it then, Asgard is once again at war,” she said.

“Can there really be an option for peace after what they have done?” Daianya asked.

“I still don’t understand why King Eitri would do this,” Anima said. 

“If something happened to either of you, I think I might get a bit angry,” Nal said.

“But would you attack a realm that had nothing to do with it?” Anima asked.

“That’s the bit I’m stuck on too,” Nal admitted.

****

“So your people are at war then?” Senan asked.

It was time for their six monthly catch up and Anima had just filled him in on everything that had happened since the last time they spoke.

“Sadly yes; the first proper attacks began a few weeks ago, before that it was weapons’ making and rune stones,” Anima said. “I think I’ve made about ten thousand healing rune-stones in the last six months.”

“So it’s only just begun? Are you safe, Ani-darlin’?” he asked.

Anima stared into the fire for a moment. “My job is on Asgard, making rune stones and healing those brought back from the battlefields,” she said. “I’m safe, but Daianya is in the middle of it as a Valkyrie, so is Father, and Uncle Loki. So is the king and Hela, although I have to confess I worry about them less. Hela can’t die, and as long as the King channels Yggdrasil neither can he.”

“So you can’t stay with me then?” Senan asked. “I was going to ask you if you might.”

Anima looked at him and tried to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. “I can’t, not while they’re out there and might need me,” she said. “Not while my realm is so unstable.”

“Maybe they’ll find a way to make peace?” Senan said.

“I hope so,” Anima said. “The nine realms should be united. We are all branches of Yggdrasil, and fighting between ourselves just feels wrong.”

“My son’s had a son,” Senan said softly. “A fine boy, the mother made it through well and strongly too, gods be praised.”

Anima turned to face him by the light of the fire. “We were never meant to be together, were we?” she asked.

Senan shrugged. “I don’t know about meant, but we’re here now, and I’d rather take a day with you twice a year than nothing at all.”

She smiled at him and shifted, climbing up until she sat in his lap. His hair was half silver, he had lines around his eyes from a lifetime of laughter, and his hands, where they held her, were still as strong as they had always been.

She kissed him, his lips were rough and his skin looser than when he had been a young man, but he was still the love of her life.

“One day,” she said, breaking the kiss. “One day we’ll defy everyone, I promise.”

“In another life?” he joked. “I heard from a fairy princess that there’s a second one if you follow the branches of Yggdrasil, maybe I’ll see you there and we can build a little house to live in.”

“If that’s truly what it’s like then we’ll do exactly that,” Anima promised him, “And no one will ever be allowed to call on us for anything, ever again.”

****

Thanos sat on the rocks by his ship and flexed his right arm carefully. It had taken months to heal back to normal, but he could finally lift and move his weapon the way he used to again.

He’d made mistakes. Mistakes that had seemed trivial at the time but had led to far bigger consequences than he’d anticipated. When he’d first commissioned the gauntlet he had sent the measurements for his dominant hand. That had been foolish. The gauntlet had made it harder to wield his weapons and, as Hela’s thrown hammer had shown, he was still vulnerable to physical attacks. He needed to have a gauntlet made for his left hand.

He was distracted by his thoughts by Brokkr, who approached him with a sceptre in his hands.

“I’m afraid I lack my brother’s skill,” he said, “But I have made you this. It will channel the power of the Mind Stone and allow you to take over a person’s mind without suffering any negative consequences yourself.”

Thanos took the sceptre and looked it over with annoyance. 

“I need a gauntlet,” he said.

“I can’t make one,” Brokkr said as Tanzir’s ship landed.

Thanos stared at him in annoyance as Tanzir’s ship shut off its engines and the ramp came down.

“But it’s worse than that,” Brokkr said. “Asgard and Vanaheim have both declared war on my people. You need to stop them before they destroy Nidavellir. You promised me Hela would die, you promised me revenge for my brother.”

“Lord Thanos, I have sad news,” Tanzir said.

Thanos looked up at him in concern. He had sent Tanzir to check on the status of Titan and the people who were still blockaded in.

“My people?” Thanos asked.

“They’re gone, all of them. The poor who were without food stormed the living quarters of the rich, and in retaliation the rich detonated the planet’s defensive weapons on their own people,” Tanzir said. “The planet itself is unstable now, the plants are gone, the buildings all ruins and rubble. There were no survivors.”

Thanos felt his knees go weak. The breath left his lungs as he fell awkwardly back onto the rocks. “I failed,” he said softly. “I lost the only thing that could have gotten them out safely, I relied on getting it back but I didn’t, and I didn’t raise an army or try to bring down the blockade. I knew they’d struggle, that’s why I wanted to half the population in the first place, to give the others a chance at survival, but I didn’t think they’d use the defensive weapons on their own people.”

He struggled to his feet and picked up the sceptre, turning to head into his ship.

“Where are you going?” Brokkr asked.

“Away,” Thanos said. “There is nothing here for me now, and from what you say my enemies are in the process of tearing themselves apart without me.”

“You have to destroy Asgard!” Brokkr said. “I brought you the gauntlet, it’s not my fault you lost it. Take the sceptre and – ”

Thanos turned and jabbed the sceptre into Brokkr’s chest. There was a shifting of energy and Brokkr’s eyes turned a disturbing shade of blue.

“Unsheathe your knife,” Thanos said. 

Brokkr reached down to his scabbard and pulled out his knife.

“Cut your own throat,” Thanos said, turning away and walking up the ramp of his ship.

Tanzir jumped forwards and tried to stop Brokkr from obeying, but the Dwarf was taller than him by two feet and he couldn’t reach up high enough.

Brokkr dragged the knife blade across his own throat and began to bleed heavily. Tanzir turned and ran for the medical kit on his ship, but by the time he returned it was already too late.

Thanos engaged his ship’s engines and took off, leaving the Yggdrasillian part of the galaxy behind him.


	40. Epilogue

Forty eight years later:

Laufey dragged the bag of rubbish along behind him, silently cursing Grundroth’s ever increasing list of horrible and disgusting jobs that he kept finding for Laufey to do. The rubbish wouldn’t be that bad if he’d been allowed a sled to put it on, but no, he and he alone had to do it by hand.

Grundroth’s ire at him hadn’t abated even the tiniest bit, although after thirty years of abuse and hardship Laufey had grown hard and indifferent to it. What mattered was the plan, and with his brothers rising steadily through the ranks of the Jotun court, the plan was getting closer and closer to fruition, and then Grundroth was going to die.

He reached the edge of the rubbish dumping pit and tossed the bag over the edge with a grunt of effort.

It fell down the side and hit the pile at the bottom, which made a yelping sound.

Laufey frowned and stared at the pile. There were a few animals on Jotunheim that made yelping sounds, but he’d never heard one quite like that. 

Intrigued, he climbed down the side of the pit towards where the bag had landed and began lifting the larger pieces of rubbish.

A blast of magic nearly took his head off, and he ducked down and held his arms out. “Peace!” he called out.

The rubbish moved and revealed a small, extremely pretty face framed by blond hair and set with bold green eyes.

“Who are you?” Laufey asked, “And what are you doing in the rubbish pit?”

“I was dumped here by a trader captain after he found me with his second officer,” the women said, standing up.

Despite himself Laufey swallowed at the sight of her. She wasn’t Jotun but she was _very_ attractive. “I’m Laufey,” he said. 

“Amora,” she answered. “I was taking shelter because the wind changed and I didn’t have any warm clothes to keep me from freezing before the next lot of trader ships arrived.”

“You can shelter in my room,” Laufey said. “It’s small, but no one goes near it and I have furs for warmth.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked him over with a calculating expression. “Are you a servant?” she asked.

“Worse,” Laufey said. “I’m the king’s least favourite person.”

“Honesty, how refreshing, I’ve been dealing in lies for years now and unfortunately not all of them were mine,” Amora said. “I hate royalty, I’ve met quite a few kings and queens in my travels and they were all arrogant and full of unearned pride. Do you expect… payment in exchange for this shelter?”

Her body language made it clear what she was implying, and he was tempted, very, very tempted. But in Laufey’s mind there was only room for one woman, and Amora wasn’t her.

But then a new thought occurred. “Not for me, if that’s what you are offering,” he said. “I assume the reason the captain didn’t like finding you with the second officer was because he was under the impression that you and he were an exclusive arrangement?”

“Men are so annoyingly possessive,” Amora said; she was starting to shiver.

“How would you like the opportunity to spoilt by a King?” Laufey asked her.

“Weren’t you listening?” Amora said in a disgusted tone, “I hate royalty.” Her fingertips were white and her lips were turning blue.

“Buried in the Jotun King’s vault are over three hundred Jotun tears, if you help me in my endeavours, I’ll make sure you can take them with you when you leave,” Laufey said. 

“What endeavours?” She asked.

“I’m going to kill the king,” Laufey said.

Amora smiled and her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m listening.”


	41. NOTES

Well, that’s the end of the second story in this series. It’s not as long as the first one, but then it didn’t need to contain all of the world-building and setup that the last one did. I imagine the last one feels a little bloated due to all of the extra information, but so much of it needed to be said because if I didn’t then the payoff from the rest of the series wouldn’t be as good.

Each of the stories tried to focus evenly on the main characters, although the titles only refer to one of them. Daianya’s story was about finding herself and what she really wanted out of her life. Originally she was not going to have a love interest, only find out that Norbleen was uninterested (to her relief) for other reasons, and by getting to know him and Haewkyr learn to open herself up to possibilities. But then Tarah crashed the party and she was just perfect so I rolled with it. That’s why it took so long to get them together though, because the rest of the story originally didn’t have Tarah in it much at all.

If you’ve ever read the 100 Steps series you will know that Vanaheim features prominently, and that at some point in the past Crown Prince Dorgen lost his brother to his own sword only to have it covered up by Frigga’s father, who found him crying over the body and knew that Dimcken would kill him if the secret ever got out. That was the original family backstory for Frigga, but after her scene in Endgame where she said a) she was raised by witches (I really stretched that one I have to admit) and b) her wise words about not succeeding at who you are meant to be but being good at who you are, her story changed itself in my head.

Rene Russo delivered her lines so wonderfully that I just _knew_ Frigga had worked that lesson out through hardship of her own. Her story had to include finding her own way and figuring out who she really was deep inside. Add in an over-protective and therefore overbearing mother and her new story was all set.

The other thing Infinity War and Endgame introduced me to was the idea of the Infinity Stone being able to be destroyed by someone who was 'on their wavelength'. Scarlet Witch destroying the Mind Stone because her powers came from it was an interesting idea, as was the Aether breaking out of its prison just in time to cause maximum chaos in Thor 2, and the Soul Stone and Space Stone 'working together' to send Red Skull to Vormir and turning him into a guardian/messenger. Clearly the Stones have a form of sentience, which ties into my idea of Yggdrasil having something similar.

Thank you to all those who left me encouragement throughout the writing of this story. I said in the last one that it fuels me and keeps me writing and I meant it. I read every new comment about half a dozen times between postings, especially when my computer died and I had no way of writing. Once I was back in action those same words really helped me push past the horrible feeling of loss that all my notes and some of my work disappearing left in me.

Once again, I used music to get and keep me in the mood. The playlist for this story is below for those who are interested. I’m going to take another three week break to get my head around part three, and then I will be back.

Thank you again.

Loki’s feelings about the way things are right now: Good Old Days – P!nk  
Tarah having feelings for Daianya: Jessie’s Girl – Rick Springfield  
Senan listening to Anima talk about Asgard and other planets: Drops of Jupiter – Train  
Frigga’s assessment of her mother’s plans for her: Dear Future Husband – Meghan Trainor  
Frigga’s own plans for her life: Sit Still, Look Pretty – Daya  
Amora’s plans for her life: Material Girl – Madonna  
Nal and Laufey both feeling forgotten and disregarded: In the Shadows – The Rasmus  
Hela feeling numb without death surrounding her: Bring Me To Life – Evanescence  
Odin wanting his family to get along: Family Portrait – P!nk  
Hela and Nal both reacting to being called a monster: Monster – Beth Crowley  
Nal’s reaction to Lord Elbin telling her how to be a proper woman: Most Girls – Hailee Steinfeld  
Nal and Scyth having sex: Love Me Like You Do – Ellie Goulding  
Loki in the Grandmaster’s arena: Tubthumping – Chumbawamba  
Nal clashing with Lord Elbin over who runs the realm: The Man – Taylor Swift  
Odin winning the fight with the Grandmaster: The Devil Went Down to Georgia – The Charlie Daniels Band  
Thanos killing everyone: Murder On The Dancefloor – Sophie Ellis-Bextor  
Nal taking command and using the Bifrost as a weapon: You Call Me a Bitch Like It’s a Bad Thing - Halestorm  
Frigga on the battlefield/saving her mother: Reflection (2020) – Christina Aguilera  
Daianya pulling everyone’s soul out of their bodies: Girl on Fire – Alicia Keys  
Norbleen saying goodbye to Dorgen: Firework – Katy Perry  
Daianya mourning Norbleen: Barbies – P!nk  
Nal finding Scyth in the weapons vault: Liar – Britney Spears  
Haewkyr mourning Norbleen/talking to his mother: Dynasty – MIIA  
Frigga taking command of the Vanir noble court: I Am Moana (Song of the Ancestors) – Rachel House, Auli’i Cravalho  
Odin seeing Frigga: Enchanted – Taylor Swift  
Loki and Nal talking about Scyth’s betrayal: Princesses Don’t Cry – CARYS  
Loki humiliating Lord Elbin: Applause – Lady Gaga  
Daianya telling Tarah she loves her: Alone, Pt II – Alan Walker, Ava Max  
Thanos finding out his people are dead/leaving that part of the galaxy: Nowhere Man – The Beatles  
Anima and Senan talking and realising they are still being pulled in two separate directions: Autumn Goodbye – Britney Spears  
End Credits: My Way – Ava Max


End file.
